A Devil's Plan
by f1gymnast
Summary: Rochefort looks for a way to become closer to Queen Anne. His answer comes in an alliance with a Duke who seeks vengence against a certain musketeer. I've changed this back to T but there will be nothing too graphic and will warn about possibly upsetting scenes. Set after S2 E4. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone. This will be multiple chapter fic.**

 **I'm rating this M as I think it will be on the border of T and M. There won't be anything too graphic but I will post warnings before hand.**

 **All mistakes are mine and any similarities are coincidental.**

 **Please review, if only to tell me you liked it or not. Any suggestions to improve my writing will be greatly appreciated.**

 **Unfortunately I do not own the Musketeers. :( I'm using the BBC series as a base and this fic is set after Series 2 Episode 4 - Emilie.**

 **I hope you enjoy it! :)**

Chapter 1

Rochefort was now the most powerful man in France. Regent to King Louis the XIV and with the beautiful Queen Anne by his side. All was well in the world. Even the Musketeers had to bow to him now. They would never dare to cross him especially with Anne by his side. He knew he could execute them without a second thought, but even he knew they were the best and there was no point in wasting good soldiers as long as they were loyal.

He looked to Anne seeing the beauty in her glowing face and the now obvious swell of her stomach covered by her gold dress. His child conceived out of love and not duty. He had always dreamed of this and now it was reality. Oh how his enemies had laughed but now he was laughing.

Anne was his. Only his.

Suddenly the scene around him dissolved as he opened his eyes and squinted into the light coming from the bedroom window. He sighed deeply to himself, another dream. Anne was not beside him in his bed, he was all alone. However, he was certain that the day would come when he would have Anne all to himself. She loved him and he loved her. Nothing would keep them apart. Not even the king.

* * *

The musketeers were guarding a delivery of antiquities that were gifts from the king to the Comte de Fortier. Many of the gifts were large, including an ornate writing desk, meaning that they had to be transported by cart. This lengthened the trip to four days before arrival when normally it could be completed in three and the musketeers had become bored guarding the cart.

'We're musketeers, not delivery boys,' moaned D'Artagnan. They had been accompanying the cart since they left Paris on Saturday and were now well into the third day of travel.

'Well, we are men,' said Porthos indicating himself, Athos and Aramis. 'But you're a boy,' he finished grinning. D'Artagnan rolled his eyes while the other men smirked. 'That's not funny,' he muttered.

'By the way you two owe me money,' said Aramis with a smile. Athos and Porthos grumbled as they each flicked a coin towards Aramis, who caught them with ease while smiling broadly.

'What was the bet?' questioned D'Artagnan, glaring at each man in turn.

'Aramis bet us that by the third day of this mission you would be complaining about it,' came Athos droll response. 'We disagreed,' indicating himself and Porthos. At this D'Artagnan looked questioningly at each of them, not sure if the disagreement was a good or a bad thing.

'Yeah, I had you down moaning on t'first day, while Athos said it'd be second,' remarked Porthos with a laugh as D'Artagnan scowled at all three of them. The look only increased the others amusement while Aramis tipped his hat in thanks.

'Excuse me, Monsieur Athos,' called Dubois. Athos turned his head to look at the man. Dubois was short and stocky, not that you would call him fat as such. His hair was short and brown while his face sported many freckles on his cheeks. 'Yes?' replied Athos.

'How long do you want to travel before we break for lunch?'

'Maybe another hour or so. Once we clear these trees lining the road then we can stop,' Dubois furrowed his brow in confusion at Athos statement. 'Once away from the trees we will be able to spot any trouble a lot more easily. The trees give a lot more cover to would be ambushers, so the best idea is to stop in the open where we could see an attack coming.' Athos continued. Dubois' face changed to a look of understanding and nodded.

'Never would have thought of that,' he said with a touch of embarrassment before riding ahead and not awaiting a reply.

The musketeers had found the Comte's men who accompanied the cart pleasant enough. They wore swords and pistols but were obviously not serving soldiers. The men had been eager to learn from the musketeers and the musketeers had enjoyed helping them to improve their fighting while they camped. The men were not very aware of their surroundings and the musketeers had to often warn them about possible danger. The trees lining the road had made the musketeers uneasy and they wished to ride past them as quickly as possible.

Without warning a shot was fired from close by and the horses pulling the cart spooked and reared. The Comte's men had to fight for control of their own mounts as the horses panicked. Herbert, who was the smallest and youngest of the Comte's men, was thrown from his horse and fell with a loud thud to the ground gasping for air. The musketeers quickly calmed the situation with D'Artagnan quickly soothing the horses that pulled the cart before they could trample Herbert, while Athos and Porthos calmed the remaining horses. Aramis was quickly at Herbert's side telling him not to move in case he was injured.

Athos looked around uneasily. Where had the shot come from? Were they shooting at their party, or was someone hunting in the trees? He could see nothing out of the ordinary but what he could hear disturbed him greatly. He held his left hand up to silence the question Dubois was about to ask. The only sound that could be heard was Herbert's laboured breathing.

* * *

Rochefort was in his office when the messenger knocked at the door. 'Enter,' came his curt response. The door opened and the messenger entered. 'Well?' Rochefort prompted him.

'The king wishes to see you immediately sir.'

'What about?'

'He did not say sir.'

Rochefort sighed as he followed the messenger. The king was childish and petulant. No doubt this was about something he did not want to do but as king should do. He always thought of himself rather than his country and to Rochefort's mind that made him a rather foolish king.

As Rochefort entered he could see Louis pacing the room and greatly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Queen Anne was sat on chair looking frustrated but beautiful as ever in a stunning blue dress, while to Rochefort's chagrin Milady de Winter was stood in the corner. Rochefort despised the woman but she had murdered Perales for him and she was driving a wedge between the king and queen. The bigger the wedge the more chance Rochefort had of getting close to Anne. Near the other door stood Anne's ladies including the rather annoying Madame Bonacieux. She had quickly become the confidant of Queen Anne and Rochefort knew he would have to watch her closely as he tried to get close to the queen.

Rochefort bowed and waited to be told the reason for his summons. Louis kept pacing while Anne looked on. In the end she decided to break the silence.

'Louis, it is only right that you go. The Duke of Mayenne is a very important ally in allowing trade to come through his lands freely. He will expect you to be there and will take it as an insult if you're not. He has already agreed to meet in Dreux so you don't have travel all the way out to Mayenne.' Rochefort noted the queen's voice was filled with exasperation. She had obviously made these points before and was getting rather annoyed with her husband.

'What say you Rochefort?' asked the king. Rochefort mediated the anger brewing inside of him. Louis would do anything to get out of a meeting or requirement he didn't want to do and this shirk of duty was beginning to grate.

'I'm afraid I must agree with Her Majesty sire. The Duke of Mayenne is a powerful ally and a short journey to Dreux would be a small price to pay to ensure his loyalty.'

'But I don't want to go!' whined Louis. 'Why does being king have to be so boring?'

'It is a necessary evil to keep the country running sire. Without your allies France would be week to foreign powers.' Rochefort paused waiting for Louis to comment. When it became clear the king was neither going to agree or disagree, Rochefort asked, 'When do you leave for this meeting?'

'Thursday. I will make my final decision on Wednesday. My schedule may become rather busy,' Louis smiled, looking directly at Milady de Winter. Queen Anne looked away in disgust as he approached Milady and planted a kiss on her cheek while Milady giggled.

'You are dismissed Rochefort,' and with that command Rochefort bowed and left the room quickly followed by Queen Anne. He longed to touch her and comfort her from the hurt her husband was causing her but before he could act she was walking back to her chambers with her ladies in tow.


	2. Chapter 2

**As I've said in the summary I've changed this back down to T. Hope you enjoy the second chapter. :)**

* * *

Chapter 2

The silence around them spoke volumes to Athos. He looked to D'Artagnan who was still with the cart and soothing the horses while quietly unhitching them. Porthos was with Dubois and the Comte's other men while Aramis was leaning over Herbert to check him for wounds from the fall.

In the nearby trees stood Renard. He could now clearly see the whole party before him as he had waited for the right time to strike over the past few days. The ten men that accompanied him were ready strike at his command.

The musketeers were the problem as the other men were clearly terrified and would pose little threat, save for a lucky shot in their panic. Renard didn't like spilling blood when it was unnecessary but the musketeers may overpower them if they didn't strike accurately and would certainly defend their own if they realised his plan. He could see the musketeer who had taken his future away from him and his anger rose causing him to grimace. That musketeer must be taken alive for he and his master had big plans for him.

He gathered the men quietly around him. 'You know the plan,' he whispered. 'That musketeer must be taken alive. Kill the others but leave the Comte's men if you can. They're not involved in this.' Renard's men took their positions and waited for his signal.

The musketeers were now slowly moving towards Aramis and Herbert, watching carefully for any sign of movement in the trees. The young man's blonde hair was covered with dust and they could see a small pool of blood beneath his head. Aramis had let the others assess the situation while he saw to Herbert.

'He's had a nasty bang to the head which will no doubt result in concussion,' he announced quietly. 'He has also broken two ribs and bruised all the rest. I won't be able to tell if the bruising has extended to his lungs until he wakes.' He turned to the others and in silent communication deduced that they did not know if they were still in danger or if any threat had passed. Aramis himself looked to the trees and listened for any noise.

'No birds. Nothing.'

'No….that's what troubles me,' Athos replied. 'Dubois, lead your men and the horses slowly away from here.' Dubois turned to leave when D'Artagnan quietly cleared his throat. The other three musketeers turned to him immediately and watched as he flicked his eyes to the trees left of the road. That's where the ambush was going to come from, he'd seen the light catch a blade in the trees.

BANG. A shot missed Porthos' head by mere inches as the musketeers took note of the men charging at them.

'Dubois. Get out of here,' shouted Athos as the men came running from the trees towards the musketeers. Only the musketeers. Aramis was the quickest to shoot and as accurate as ever, killed two men instantly with the two pistols that he carried. Athos shot another dead soon after while the bandits fired simultaneously hitting none of their intended targets.

D'Artagnan missed his shot as the horses that he had unhitched from the cart panicked and knocked him to the ground. The same horses also knocked over Porthos whose pistol fell from his reach. He had no time to retrieve it as the first bandit was on him in a flash.

It was now seven against four and the musketeers fancied their chances. Porthos parried an attack from the bandit he fought before using his left hand to punch him squarely in the jaw. The man stumbled and fell but Porthos could not deliver the final blow as another man attacked from behind him. Porthos had heard his footsteps just in time and manged to turn away from the attacker but felt the blade catch his left arm.

Athos and D'Artagnan also fought two men each. Athos with his skill quickly dispatched one man by stabbing him the stomach. The man fell and writhed on the ground before falling still as a pool of blood appeared beneath him. The other man had proved more of a challenge as he had clearly been well instructed in sword-play. Athos knew he wouldn't be easy to beat and tried to take the initiative but found himself reacting to his opponent's movements. He hated it when he wasn't in control. Soon though Athos found he had the upper hand and was biding his time to strike.

D'Artagnan was having trouble with his two opponents, mainly because his left knee had been jarred when he fell because of the panicked horses. The immobility was greatly hampering him but he spotted a movement from one of the men that he could use to his advantage. The man often left his stance open just before he attacked. Taking advantage of this D'Artagnan moved swiftly and dispatched his opponent. Now for the other one. D'Artagnan could tell the man was more of a soldier than a bandit as his moves were precise and calculated. Having faced Athos often, D'Artagnan knew how to break down the fight and take the initiative. His knee was also starting to hurt less which helped greatly with his movement. He parried the strong blow from his opponent and looked him straight in the eyes.

Aramis battled one opponent but was trying not to hurt Herbert, who hadn't moved since the fall, and dancing around the young boy was proving problematic. Still Aramis moved quickly and elegantly until he had his opponent tripping over his own feet. Aramis took advantage of the man's stumble and ran him through without a second thought.

Aramis heard Porthos yell as his left arm was cut and turned to see his friend fall to his knees. Aramis reacted out instinct and drew his dagger throwing into the back of the man who had wounded Porthos. The man screamed and fell to the floor as Aramis hit his mark. Porthos dived for the pistol he had dropped earlier and aimed at the man now recovering from his earlier punch. Porthos found his target and the man fell limply to the floor. A loud whistle was heard and Athos' and D'Artagnan's remaining opponents pushed away from their fights and fled into the trees without a backward glance.

* * *

Renard watched in a mixture of horror and shock as the musketeers dispatched his men quickly and ruthlessly. His men were trained soldiers but the musketeers were something else. The rumours were indeed true that the King's Musketeers were the best soldiers in France and Renard would have to forgo his quarry this day. He whistled to signal his remaining two men to retreat. His master would not be happy about his failure and he grimaced at the thought.

The three men quickly negotiated the trees to their waiting mounts and rode away as fast as they could.

* * *

With all the fighting going on, nobody had noticed Dubois and the rest of the Comte's men mount their horses and ride ahead. Dubois stopped his men just after they had passed the tree line and finally managed to get a good look at all four of them. They were all exhausted and fear was etched on each of their faces and some were visibly shaking. Only four of them as they had to leave Herbert behind. Dubois felt his stomach twist with guilt at leaving the young man, no he was really only a boy, behind. He could see the men looking towards him for leadership and knew that he had to be strong now.

'Herbert will be ok,' he reassured them. 'The musketeers won't allow any harm to come to him from the fight.'

Dubois was startled as the cart horses appeared behind them and quickly dismounted to catch them. He was worried about the musketeers but he knew they could not go back yet. 'Let's ride on. Monsieur Athos said the best place to be is further away from these trees,' he announced calmly. Well at least he hoped he had sounded calm.

Dubois secured the reigns from one cart horse to his saddle and the other to Bouchard's saddle. Together the men rode for a few more minutes before finally stopping to wait for the musketeers.

* * *

 **A/N: This was my first try at a fight scene. Any tips to make it better would be welcome. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok. More of a filler chapter today. I enjoyed writing it though. I can still get reviews through my email so please review if you want to.**

 **All mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy it. :)**

* * *

Chapter 3

Athos ran through the trees before coming to halt at the sound of increasingly distant hooves. The attackers had fled by horse and there was no way to catch up with them. Athos sheathed his sword and started walking back towards his brothers. He wasn't surprised at the sight before him as he emerged through the trees. Aramis was knelt next to an increasingly irritable Porthos while D'Artagnan watched on from a short distance.

'Gerroff Aramis. I told you I'm fine,' Athos heard Porthos state rather loudly. Predictably, Aramis was having none of it and continued to examine Porthos' wounded left arm after silencing him with glare. Porthos considered for a moment that there were truly only three men who could quell him with a meaningful glare. The first, naturally, was Captain Treville who could make any man back down with his signature 'I'm not taking any bullshit' look. The second was Athos, whose icy stare could frighten the life out of anyone. The third was the man now tending his injured arm, Aramis. When someone was injured Aramis was always the first to give aid and woe betide anyone who got in his way or tried to stop him treating their own wound, as Porthos had just done. It dawned on Porthos that D'Artagnan was not yet on his list but he knew that he would soon be. After all he had watched Athos and Aramis many times and the Gascon was a quick learner.

A quiet groan made all four musketeers startle as they looked for the source. Herbert was waking up and the musketeers all stared rather guiltily at the boy that they had momentarily forgotten. Athos moved towards the boy and D'Artagnan followed him.

'Easy. Easy,' he said softly to Herbert as he gently placed a hand on his chest. 'Try and breathe steadily but not too deeply.'

D'Artagnan looked around for the horses. Musketeer horses were well trained and didn't panic easily, so they should still be close by.

'Whoo-wit,' he whistled softly and waited, looking behind him and ahead again. D'Artagnan smiled as ahead of him, in the trees on the right, he could see a familiar black nose, which was soon followed by the rest of his head. Zad, his stallion, had heard is call and was soon followed by Roger, Athos stallion. Behind him, D'Artagnan heard the sound of hooves on the road and turned to see Flip and Fidget, with the later already making his way over to his rider Aramis. Aramis moved to meet his horse and to get the medical supplies from his saddle bag. Fidget tapped Aramis in the back with his nose as he turned away in a sign of affection. Aramis had come to expect this by now, but at first Fidget had tapped much harder often making Aramis stumble and once sending him face first to the ground.

'It doesn't need stitches. So I'm going to clean it and bandage it,' Aramis informed Porthos who replied with an inaudible grumble. D'Artagnan had made his way over to Zad and removed his spare blanket from his saddle bag before brushing Zad's ears in affection. He gave the folded blanket to Athos who lifted Herbert's head and tucked the blanket underneath while speaking words of reassurance.

'Hurts. A lot,' Herbert told Athos with tears in his eyes.

'You fell from your horse and hit your head. You have also broken some ribs, so I'm sure it really hurts,' said Athos with a small smile. The boy tried to return the smile but could only grimace. 'You will be alright. Aramis has a good record.' When the boy looked at him in confusion Athos continued, 'He treats Porthos, D'Artagnan and myself constantly and as you can see we're all fine. Only problem is, when he's injured he insists on trying to treat himself.' Herbert finally managed a smile if only for a moment as the pain throbbed in his head and chest.

'Herbert,' came Aramis voice as he finished cleaning and bandaging Porthos wound. 'I'm going to have a quick look at you and then we will need to move from here. I'm sorry but it will hurt more when we move you, but we need to get away from here as soon as possible.'

'Oi, D'Artagnan. What d'ya think you're doing?' Porthos shouted, startling both Athos and Aramis. The two musketeers turned to look at the youngest member of their group hitching Flip and Zad to the cart.

D'Artagnan looked back innocently, 'Well Porthos, I'm hitching Flip and Zad to the cart.'

'I can see that. Why are you hitching **my** horse to the cart?' Porthos growled.

D'Artagnan smiled before explaining, 'Aramis will insist that you don't ride with your injured arm before you have to so you will be sat on the cart. We can't fit Herbert in the cart so Aramis will insist that Herbert rides with him. Which incidentally is probably best considering that Fidget is the most used to riding with two as Aramis often rescues a lot of damsels in distress.' D'Artagnan flashed Aramis a grin who responded with a smile of his own and a tip of his hat. 'Meanwhile Athos will want to ride on his own to check for any more possible attacks. He also won't want to push Roger too hard as he is the oldest horse here. That leaves my horse pulling the cart with yours as the cart requires two horses to pull it,' D'Artagnan finished with a rather smug look on his face.

Porthos growled and turned to look at Aramis who was grinning broadly and tipped his head to the left as if to say 'That's how it is' while Athos smirk told Porthos that this was a battle he wouldn't win.

* * *

Renard and his men rode as fast as they could through trees before coming to the end of the small wood. They had untied the other eight horses and hoped that the horses would follow them. As they stopped to rest for a moment it became clear that the others horses had indeed followed them and were now slowing to a stop near to them. Looking behind them they listened for any sign of the musketeers following. After a few tense minutes they came to the conclusion that the musketeers had decided not to follow and all heaved a sigh of relief.

'The Duke is not going to be happy Renard,' Boucher stated. The man was built much like Athos, but with blonde hair and brown eyes, and had similar skills with a sword.

'I am well aware of that,' Renard retorted. Renard was very much the same build as Porthos. Slightly shorter but often preferred to fight with his fists rather than a weapon. His hair was dark and short while his eyes were dark brown with large dark circles around them. He also sported a long thin scar set diagonally across his neck, clearly the mark of a sword.

'Well, at least we have the horses,' said Simon as he tried to lighten the mood. Simon was very tall and rather gangly with dark hair and blue eyes.

'Yes Simon, we have the horses. But no musketeer!' snarled Renard. 'Ten men against four and we still couldn't win!'

'Those musketeers are something else,' admitted Boucher with a shake of his head. 'I thought I was good with a sword but the musketeer I fought was better. He had such a piercing stare. It was actually rather terrifying.'

'Mine was the young one. Hurt his knee and I thought I could kill him easy. Turns out he's stubborn and knows how to move and counter attacks when he is weak,' Simon said with some admiration in his voice.

Renard glared at the pair of them, 'My brother once called them 'toy soldiers'. I should have known better than to believe him. One thing is clear. We need to attack when there are only two of them at most or we need even more men to overpower them.'

'We've observed them Renard. Rarely do you see the four of them apart and it would be far harder to take him in Paris rather than the countryside,' countered Boucher.

'I have an idea about that. Let's get back to the estate as quickly as possible. If we ride hard we should be able to get there tonight.' Renard urged his horse forward as the others followed closely behind him.

* * *

Dubois and his men had dismounted a while ago and were now awaiting the arrival of the musketeers and Herbert. Bouchard sat on the ground pulling at pieces of grass rather than eating the lunch that Dubois had suggested they should eat. Dubois approached the young man, who was only a few years older than Herbert with sandy hair and many freckles covering his face, and sat down beside him.

'Herbert will be ok,' he soothed. 'Are you injured in any way?' Bouchard had been driving the cart when the horses had spooked and had been forced to ride Herbert's horse away from the attack. The young man shook his head in answer.

'We just ran away,' the younger man told the older man. 'We did nothing to help. We were useless,' he finished quietly.

Dubois paused for a moment and considered how he should handle the situation.

'Bouchard, a good soldier follows orders, correct?' he paused waiting for the nod from the young man. Bouchard nodded and Dubois continued, 'The musketeers are in charge of the mission, so we obey them. Monsieur Athos told us to run and we obeyed. There is no shame in that.' Dubois turned to look at Bouchard and could see that he wasn't convinced.

'You were very brave today in a very dangerous situation. You didn't panic when the horses reared and you rode a horse that had previously thrown its rider. You obeyed the order to leave with the rest of us. Does that make us all cowards?'

The young man looked horrified at Dubois' question and responded, 'Of course not. I don't think of any of you as cowards. I never would!'

'Then why do you believe yourself one, when we have all run from the same situation?' countered Dubois.

Bouchard opened his mouth to reply but couldn't find his voice and merely smiled sheepishly at Dubois.

Both men were stirred from their conversation by the sound of approaching hooves on the road. The musketeers had arrived with Herbert and the cart.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi. Longer chapter today. It darts about a bit so I hope it flows ok.**

 **There are a few swears at the end but nothing major. Hope you enjoy it! :)**

Chapter 4

The musketeers and the Comte's men were reunited on the road and Aramis quickly saw to treating Herbert's wounds that he had left so they could leave the sight of the ambush quickly. The young man was currently unconscious which made treating his head wound easier. D'Artagnan held Herbert as Aramis cleaned the head wound, which thankfully did not require stitches, and bandaged the broken ribs. Porthos and Athos helped Dubois and Bouchard unhitch Flip and Zad from the cart and then re-hitch the cart horses. Herbert's horse was then tied to Flip who Porthos seemed rather reticent to let go of. The musketeers paused quickly to eat some lunch after Dubois informed Athos that he and his men had already eaten.

'Ok. Let's get going,' Athos announced. Turning to Dubois, Athos asked, 'Can we still make it to the estate by tomorrow evening?'

'Yes I believe so. I also know of somewhere we can stop for the night. If we can make it there tonight, we should still be able to reach the Comte's estate by tomorrow evening,' replied Dubois. Athos nodded as the men continued their journey.

* * *

Rochefort was sat in his office staring at paperwork that he hadn't paid any attention to in the last twenty minutes. He could still hear the king whining about travelling to Dreux in his mind and was starting to wonder if the king actually did anything. He sat back in his chair and sighed.

He knew he should be happy as his plans were starting to progress. Treville was no longer captain of the musketeers but the victory felt hollow as it became clear that the regiment still considered him their captain as did the queen. The king was listening to his advice and Rochefort hoped that soon he would become the king's main advisor with a lot of sway in the decisions that mattered.

He was, however, feeling the loss of his fantasies at the brothel. He had been right to kill the whore who betrayed him by siding with Perales, but now he had no emotional outlet. Anne wasn't coming to him as he had hoped, instead relying on Madame Bonacieux.

He got up from his chair and decided he would go for a walk. While ensconced in his thoughts he had taken little notice of where he was walking and he was brought out of his stupor by the sound of gurgling and realised he was in the queen's chambers. As he moved closer he could hear Anne talking to her son in French and in Spanish. Quietly he opened the door further to see Anne bent over her son's crib smiling broadly. 'She looks so beautiful when she smiles,' he thought to himself.

'Is something wrong Rochefort?' Queen Anne asked as Rochefort was dragged away from his thoughts by the queen's question.

'No Your Majesty. I was merely passing by,' he said with a bow.

'He is so adorable and he's growing so fast,' she said grasping her son's hand while he lay in his crib. Rochefort took her words as an invitation to move closer to the future king, meaning he would be closer to Anne as well. 'He'll be asleep soon,' she said to no-one in particular. Rochefort rested his hand on the crib next to Anne's and moved so that he was almost touching her, pretending to look at the child.

'He is strong and handsome,' Rochefort commented.

'Of course. He has royal blood in his veins,' Anne replied and moved to look out of the window. Rochefort quietly cursed her movement but his eyes never left her slight frame.

'I wanted to thank you for agreeing with me earlier. Louis can sometimes be difficult about travelling even when he knows he should. I'm still waiting for the moment for him to ask me to go in his place instead. Sometimes he can be so selfish.' Anne paused as she realised what she had said. She turned back to face Rochefort, 'Forgive me. I should not speak of my husband in such a way.'

Rochefort was glad that Anne could see her husband for what he was but decided he would not mention the truth in her statement. 'He will not hear it from me,' he said quietly. 'You were right to point out the importance of his presence and I am glad His Majesty has listened to your wise words.'

Anne smiled at Rochefort and he felt his heart skip a beat. She moved closer to him and spoke quietly, 'You have been a good friend Rochefort. I am glad that you are here.' The door opened and Marguerite entered.

'Marguerite. He is sleeping now and I shall retire to my chambers. I trust you have everything in hand?' asked the queen.

'Yes Your Majesty,' Marguerite answered with a curtesy. Rochefort again privately cursed at the arrival of the governess who had so far provided him with no useful information about the queen. Anne was already moving towards the door before she turned to face him, 'Goodnight Rochefort.'

'Goodnight Your Majesty,' he replied with a bow. As Rochefort made his way back to his office his mind had turned completely to Anne. He wondered how he could get close enough to her to make her see how he felt and whether she would act upon impulse as he surely would.

One thing he was sure of was that she loved him.

* * *

As the sunset the musketeers and the Comte's men reached the site that Dubois had earlier indicated and set up camp. Herbert had been conscious for a while and was now trying to eat some broth, which Dubois had made over the fire, under the guidance of Aramis and his still very concerned friend Bouchard.

The rest of the men sat around the campfire eating their meal in silence after a very tiring day. Soon Aramis joined them and Athos asked, 'How is he?'

'So far he has managed to keep the broth down as well as the water so he is as well as can be expected at the moment,' replied Aramis. Dubois visibly relaxed at the marksman's verdict of the young boy and sighed in relief.

Another few minutes of silence passed as Aramis began eating his meal just as everyone else had finished. It was Dubois that broke the silence, 'Do you think those bandits were opportunists who wanted to steal the cart?'

There was a pause before Athos answered, 'Maybe.' Athos then exchanged glances with Porthos, Aramis and D'Artagnan in turn, confirming that they all suspected that everything was not as it seemed. Dubois watched the musketeers and recognised a non-verbal conversation taking place before him.

'What aren't you telling us?' he demanded as the musketeers' eyes settled on him.

'The men we fought weren't bandits,' explained Athos.

'They were more like soldiers,' interjected D'Artagnan.

'I don't think their aim was the cart. They never approached the cart at all.'

'Mind you, D'Artagnan had released the horses so they wouldn't have been able to drive it away easily,' commented Porthos.

'Yes, that was a stroke of genius,' agreed Aramis.

'Has been known to happen,' said D'Artagnan with a small smile and a shrug of his shoulders.

'Hey genius, those horses knocked you over and then decided to knock me over!' exclaimed Porthos.

'Gentlemen, we're getting away from the point,' said Athos in a calm voice. 'We don't know the intention of the men that attacked us but we do know the outcome. Eight men are dead, two fled as did however many were hiding in the trees. I heard the horses retreat, therefore it is unlikely that they will attempt to attack again.'

'An' if they do. We'll take 'em out again,' said Porthos proudly, receiving nods from his musketeer brothers. Dubois could only nod with them and hope that their confidence was not misplaced.

'Right, Aramis and I will take the first watch. Porthos and D'Artagnan will take the second. Everybody get some rest,' Athos ordered. All the men started to move to their bedrolls and Dubois managed to convince Bouchard to leave Herbert's side to get some much needed sleep.

* * *

Renard, Boucher and Simon approached the duke's estate well into the night. All three were exhausted as were their horses. The free horses had mainly followed but some had lagged behind. Renard was sure that they would arrive as these lands were familiar to them and the horses knew the way home.

As they dismounted they were informed by a guard that the duke was awaiting their presence and followed the man through the dimly lit halls. Renard's stomach was churning as he tried to cement the words he would use to explain their failure and how his new idea would work.

As the three men entered the room they could see the Duke of Épernon sitting in a large armchair by the fire sipping a glass of brandy. The Duke was a strongly built man, much like Renard himself, his hair and beard contained flecks of grey while his eyes were dark and seemed to contain the depths of hell itself. The duke turned to look at the new arrivals and Renard felt his composure start to crumble.

'Monsieur le duc-,' he started but was cut off by the duke.

'Cut the crap Renard. I know who I am. I also know that I can't see our musketeer within your grasp,' he boomed. 'Mind telling why you don't have him.'

'The musketeers proved more formidable then I first thought. As we had observed in Paris, the four of them barely leave each other's side and worked well as a team.'

'How many men did you take Renard? Remind me.'

'Ten sir.'

'Forgive me. I'm sure I have misunderstood. Are you telling me that ten men could not beat four?' sneered the Duke before sipping his brandy. When no answer came the Duke looked at each of the three men with rage in his eyes. 'Where are the other men?'

'We lost the other eight men. It all happened so quickly,' mumbled Renard.

'EIGHT MEN!' roared the duke. 'You have failed me Renard. I want my revenge and you clearly aren't capable of bringing it to me.'

Renard felt his anger surge, 'Bullshit! Don't forget why you needed me in the first place. I am the one who told you who was responsible for taking away your chance at more power and wealth. While you still have a comfortable estate, I lost my brother! Without my information you would have no chance at revenge.'

'Do not forget that you still work for me and always have. You have always answered to me and not your brother! Without my resources and men you wouldn't stand a chance at targeting that musketeer,' the duke retorted and now stood face to face with Renard, both men glowering at each other with almost murderous intent for what seemed like an age.

'Why don't you tell the duke of your idea Renard,' came the quiet and fearful voice of Simon. Both men turned to look at Simon and Boucher, having forgotten that they were in the room at all.

'You have an idea?' asked the duke as he turned to sit in his chair again.

'Yes. It is well known in Paris that there is animosity between the Musketeers and the Red Guard,' Renard paused as the duke once again took a sip of his brandy.

'So what do you propose?'

'I approach the head of the Red Guard, the Comte de Rochefort and ask for his help in bringing down the musketeers. Hopefully he will be agreeable and if not, we have lost nothing.'

'Fine. You will not mention my name unless you have to. The name of our musketeer friend must also remain confidential as well as the reason why we want him.'

'What am I to offer in return for his help?'

The duke paused for a moment and swirled the remaining brandy in his glass while he thought. Finally he replied, 'Anything. He can have money, men, women, horses. Whatever he wants. Get some sleep Renard. You leave at first light.'

Realising his dismissal, Renard bowed to the duke, who was now staring at the fire, and quickly left with Simon and Boucher. Now he just had to figure out how to convince the Comte to help him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi. Today's chapter is more focused on Queen Anne. It wasn't supposed to be but I found myself writing it anyway. :)**

 **Hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think. :)**

* * *

Chapter 5

At first light Renard headed to the stables, saddled a new horse and mounted heading towards Paris. He was hoping that his initial instincts would be correct and that the Comte de Rochefort would be willing to help him. He had left without seeing the duke that morning as he didn't want to incur the man's wrath again. He shuddered as he thought about the consequences should he not attain Rochefort's help.

* * *

As first a princess and then a queen, Anne had always lived a privileged life but she had always been sheltered from the outside world and what life was like for the common person. However, that had changed when Constance had become one of her ladies after D'Artagnan's recommendation.

It happened because one day Anne had rather let slip the fact that she often felt alone even when being surrounded by people. She couldn't trust her ladies and had said as much. She had been out in the garden, which was really her sanctuary, and had noticed a familiar face guarding her but with his normally ever present companions nowhere to be seen.

' _D'Artagnan,' she called to him. 'Will you join me, please?' she asked indicating the walkway that led further into the gardens. At the time she was heavily pregnant and could only walk at a slow pace and this had somewhat annoyed most of her ladies._

 _D'Artagnan approached and bowed, 'Your Majesty.'_

 _'Where are your friends?' she enquired._

 _'They are on a mission to sort out some skirmishes in the villages not far from here.'_

 _'If you don't mind me asking, why aren't you with them? I rarely see the four of you apart.'_

 _'I injured my left arm a few days ago. It's not serious but Aramis wouldn't let me ride for too long with it not fully healed. I argued and lost,' he said with a reminiscent smile. 'I should know by now that arguing with Aramis over injuries is always a lost cause and when Athos and Porthos pitch in on his side I was always going to remain at the garrison. Treville thought I was well enough for guard duty though.' He looked at the queen and was glad to her smiling too._

 _They walked silently through the gardens for a while before Anne commented, 'I do so love the gardens. So full of life everywhere you look and generally rather quiet and peaceful.'_

 _'Indeed. The flowers are beautiful, though I'm afraid couldn't identify any them myself,' said D'Artagnan with a warm smile. Anne highly doubted that but returned his smile anyway._

 _'May I enquire why your ladies are not with you?'_

 _'My pace is rather slow at the moment, I'm afraid, and it has rather irritated them. Besides none of them truly enjoy the gardens as I do and I'm used to being alone.' D'Artagnan wasn't sure what he should say so he opted to remain silent as he walked just behind her and to the right._

 _'My ladies don't like me,' Anne continued. D'Artagnan tried to keep his face neutral but had obviously failed to conceal his surprise at her statement, 'Don't worry. Everyone knows. Most of them are there because it elevates their status and allows them to find a better marriage. Those that are married are there to spy on me,' she said with bitterness in her voice. D'Artagnan was surprised to hear her speak like this, but was also moved by the thought that she trusted him enough to voice an opinion that she had long held close to her heart._

 _A thought occurred to D'Artagnan, 'May I make a suggestion Your Majesty?'_

 _Anne turned to face him, 'Of course.'_

 _'I know of a woman who I think would make a perfect lady for you.'_

 _'Go on.'_

 _'She is the wife of a tailor and I believe she would hold no animosity towards you and would have no cause to spy on you. She is loyal and caring and a very honest woman.' Anne could hear the adulation in his voice and wondered if they had had a secret romance. She could tell that he truly believed what he was telling her and the opinions of the musketeers that had saved her life were now some of the most valuable to her._

 _'She sounds like a fine woman. What is her name?'_

 _'Madame Bonacieux. Constance Bonacieux.'_

 _'I shall certainly consider your suggestion D'Artagnan. After all, if she comes recommended by a musketeer I believe that she is truly as you describe,' Anne smiled._

 _They had finished their walk circling the gardens and D'Artagnan fell back into line as the king approached wondering where she had been._

Anne was woken from her reverie as Constance appeared and sat next to her on the edge of the fountain.

'You asked for me Your Majesty.'

'Constance, we are friends are we not?'

'Yes Your Majesty, why would you think otherwise?'

'I know that you know about Milady de Winter and that you haven't told me the truth. It's obvious by the way you look at her. You look at her with more hatred and anger than I do,' said Anne she took Constance's hands in hers. 'Please tell me what you know.'

Constance stared down at their entwined hands as she dared not look at the queen, 'Well, we decided not to say anything as we have no evidence to use against her.'

'We? You mean the musketeers as well?' Anne's voice wasn't accusing, merely curious. At that moment Louis and Milady appeared in the grounds. Both were giggling animatedly and Milady was wrapped around Louis' arm. Anne felt her anger rise at this blatant show but kept her face neutral in a mask that she perfected over time.

She turned back to Constance who was now facing her and she spoke quietly, 'Your Majesty must understand that we wouldn't keep this from you unless we thought it was best. We cannot prove any of what I'm going to tell you, but it is the truth.'

Anne considered for a moment and then she spoke, 'Please Constance tell me. I know that without proof I cannot go to Louis, but I would rather know what I'm up against.'

Constance sighed, 'Milady used to work for Cardinal Richelieu.'

'So she was the woman that did his bidding.' Anne's face turned to disbelief. 'Why did no-one mention this to me? Treville only told me that the woman was apprehended and obviously not very well.'

'We can't prove that she had any involvement since the cardinal's death. She would deny everything.'

'And I would sound like a jealous wife,' Anne said in resigned voice.

'We do not believe that she is a threat to you or the king. She has what she wants,' Constance assured her friend.

'I believe you may be right.' Anne's eyes darted back to Louis and his mistress. 'But that doesn't explain **your** deep hatred of her.' Anne squeezed Constance's hand reassuringly.

'It was part of their plan to make Richelieu confess. They were to use Milady to get to him. She had realised that she needed some kind of insurance in case her plans didn't work out. I was her insurance.' Constance's voice was starting to break as she remembered her time as a hostage and Anne moved closer to her in reassurance.

'Her plan was to kill the musketeers and use me as bait. She knew of D'Artagnan's feelings for me and mine for him. She had just the four of them come to the Rue St. Jacques where a friend of hers held a pistol to my head.'

'Oh Constance. That's terrible!' exclaimed Anne. However Constance was now smiling which confused Anne greatly.

'Musketeers don't die easily,' Constance smiled. 'Four men against twenty in the ambush that Milady had created. The four won easily and I got away only to be caught by Milady herself. She held a pistol to me but to be honest I was no longer afraid. I knew the musketeers would get to me. That D'Artagnan would get to me. She was caught but Athos let her go.'

'Why would Athos let her go!?'

'They have a history,' Constance said simply. 'She was supposed to stay away from Paris but when the king and D'Artagnan were saved by her, she found a way back to Paris.'

'Thank you for telling me the truth. I will watch her closely but so far she has shown no interest in my son. That is all that matters.' Anne looked around but Louis and Milady were gone.

* * *

Rochefort watched as Louis and Milady giggled like children in full view of everyone, including Queen Anne. He could not forgive the king for setting aside his wife for a common whore and parading her as though she were a lady. His eyes moved to Anne where she was sat on the edge of the fountain. She was talking with Madame Bonacieux and their body language suggested that the topic was something important. Again she had gone to the common woman with a problem and not to him. He sighed and started to make his way back to his office.

As the door to his office came into view he noticed the door was open just a fraction. He was sure that he had shut it when he left and entered the room cautiously. He looked around the room and saw no-one there and decided that he mustn't have shut it after all. As he sat down behind his desk he heard a voice speak.

'The Comte de Rochefort, I presume?'

* * *

 **A/N. I hadn't really planned on touching on D'Artagnan's recommendation of Constance to Queen Anne, but once I'd started I didn't want to leave it. I hope you enjoyed my explanation. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed and favourited this story so far it means a lot to me. Also to everyone who had read my story and I hope you are all enjoying it. :)**

* * *

Chapter Six

'The Comte de Rochefort, I presume?' came a deep voice from close to the door. Rochefort looked up to see a strongly built man with a scar across his neck and cursed the ineptitude of his guards and his own foolishness for not taking more precautions when he realised the door was ajar. He never left it ajar.

'Who are you? And what do you want?' Rochefort asked pompously.

'I'm certain that we share the same goals my dear Comte.'

'You nothing about my goals. I'll ask again, who are you?'

'Why is my name so important to you?'

'You know my name and I like to know the names of the men I execute for trespass,' Rochefort threatened quietly as he leant back in his chair.

'There will be no need for that. My name is Renard and I really don't like the King's Musketeers.' Renard glanced towards Rochefort and could tell that his initial instincts that the Head of the Red Guard would be sympathetic to his aims were correct. A sneering smile had appeared on Rochefort's face and he wasn't trying to hide it.

Rochefort simply replied, 'Go on,' while bringing his hands together in front of him with just the fingertips touching.

'You're not going to hand me over to your guards?'

'If I was going to do that, I would have done it already. The Musketeer regiment is rather…a thorn in my side and my life would be far simpler without their meddling.'

'You mean they're a pain in your arse that you would love to be rid of?' smirked Renard.

'You have quite a way with words, Renard. Essentially yes,' said Rochefort as he turned to face the man that could help to him to be rid of the musketeers once and for all. 'However, you are not the man in charge of this idea.' It was statement rather than a question. Rochefort stood up and moved over to where Renard stood.

Before Renard could react he found himself pinned against the wall with Rochefort's hand at his throat. Renard was much larger than Rochefort, yet the smaller man had a vice-like grip that belied his size.

'Now tell me who you work for or you will die in this room,' threatened Rochefort. Renard took a moment to remember what the duke had said. He said not to mention his name unless he had to but surely this counted as having to!

'The Duke of Épernon.' He spluttered. Rochefort released his grip and moved away.

'Why would the duke want revenge on the musketeers?'

Renard clutched his throat as he spoke, 'The duke lost a lot when the musketeers foiled a coup. So did I. I lost my brother and I want revenge as well. There is a certain musketeer we want to pay for ruining our lives.'

'So you are more interested in a particular musketeer than the regiment itself? Who is this musketeer?'

'The duke didn't want me to tell you yet. But I can tell you that he is often seen with three friends. It's almost like they are inseparable.' Rochefort smiled at Renard's words, their quarry was one of the men he truly despised. The men that constantly defied him and were the main hurdle in his quest.

'What is your master willing to give me for my help?'

'Anything,' Renard stated simply.

'Anything? That is a rather dangerous proposal. What if I wanted you to commit treason?'

'He said anything,' said Renard as he shrugged his shoulders. 'I thought it was treason to target a musketeer anyway, so I can't see a problem.'

Rochefort was quickly trying to work out a plan in his mind. 'How quickly can you return to the estate?'

'Tomorrow at the earliest unless I had a fresh horse.' Rochefort quickly took a spare piece of parchment and scribbled something before sealing it and branding it with his own seal.

'If you are serious about this then take this to the Red Guard garrison and they will give you a fresh horse. Ride back to the duke and have him ready to meet me by the South gate at four o'clock tomorrow afternoon. For my plan to work we have to do this quickly. If he does not agree, then you are on your own and I will never see you again.'

Renard took the letter from Rochefort and looked him in the eye. They shared the same goal but this was a dangerous alliance and they both knew it. Renard left the room and Rochefort began to plan.

* * *

The day had thankfully been uneventful for the musketeers and the Comte's men. Herbert was now well enough to ride on the cart alongside his friend Bouchard and both young men were glad about it. Herbert had only been allowed to ride on the cart by Aramis if he could keep his breakfast down and the young man had felt the marksman's stare all though breakfast, determined to prove himself strong. Aramis was reminded of D'Artagnan.

They approached the Comte de Fortier's residence as darkness started to envelope them and were greeted by a man holding a lantern.

'Hello Jacques,' Dubois greeted the man and dismounted.

'We was expectin' ya sooner,' said the man. 'The Comte's really worried that summat happened.'

At that moment another man with a lantern approached. He was rather portly with short grey hair and grey stubble and he was looking rather frazzled.

'What happened? Is everyone alright? Were you attacked?' he reeled off in quick succession.

'It's alright sir,' said Dubois raising his hand to stem the man's questions. 'Monsieur Athos, please meet the Comte de Fortier.'

Athos dismounted and offered a short bow to the man as his brothers did the same. The Comte looked questioningly at him and Athos reported, 'We were attacked but we successfully defeated the men and nothing in the cart was stolen or damaged.'

The Comte looked at Athos with a somewhat stunned expression on his face before responding, 'I couldn't give a damn about the cart. I care about people. Was anybody hurt? Herbert you don't look well my boy,' Now it was Athos' turn to be left stunned and he turned to look at his brothers to see their reactions were similar to his.

'Herbert was injured when his horse reared but Monsieur Aramis has taken good care of him,' Dubois explained while gesturing towards the musketeer. 'The musketeers did all the fighting and the rest of us are well.' The Comte visibly relaxed and surveyed the group of men, who he could hardly see, before him.

'Jacques, would you go to the village and fetch Dr. Allard please. I'd like him to look at Herbert,' he ordered before turning to Aramis, 'Meaning no offence of course.' Aramis smiled in return to show he wasn't offended.

'Where would you like the gifts to be put sir?' asked Dubois.

'Oh, just put them in the house somewhere,' the Comte replied waving his hand nonchalantly. 'And Bouchard get Herbert inside and resting. He certainly looks like he needs it.'

'Yes sir. Come on Herbert. Let's get you warm,' replied Bouchard.

'Gentlemen,' said the Comte indicating the musketeers, 'Will you follow me please.' They entered house until they came to a well-lit room and the Comte turned to face them, 'Now I can see you all better,' he said with a smile and opening his arms welcomingly.

The musketeers were slightly perplexed at this man. Most nobles looked at them as though they were nothing or looked down on them like they were pieces of mud stuck to their shoe. This Comte was truly different.

'If I may have the honour of knowing the names of the King's Musketeers who so bravely fought off an attack? Messieurs?' asked the Comte jovially.

'Athos.'

'D'Artagnan.'

'Porthos.'

'Aramis.'

'Well now I know who you are, it is a pleasure to meet you all,' he said grandly.

'We are happy to have been of service sir,' replied Athos.

'Oh enough of this 'sir' nonsense. You may call me Fortier, Messieurs.'

'Then may we extend the courtesy and you may call us by our names as well.'

'Oh marvellous!' exclaimed the Comte. 'Now we have rooms prepared for you but I'm afraid you will be required to share,' said the Comte looking hesitantly to them men in front of him. The musketeers were looking at each other in surprise. They had often found themselves thrown out of a noble's estate and forced to look for accommodation late into the night so they no longer expected to put up by their hosts.

The Comte saw the looks between the men and suggested, 'I can ask some of my servants to share if you would prefer rooms to yourselves.'

'Fortier I can assure you sharing will be more than fine and we are overwhelmed by your generosity,' stated Athos.

'You mean to say that other noble's do not offer you accommodation after a long journey?' said Fortier with clear astonishment in his voice.

'They rather throw us out actually,' quipped Aramis.

'Slept many night's under t'stars when we were too late to find a bed,' agreed Porthos with D'Artagnan nodding beside him.

'Not to mention some places that were worse than sleeping outside,' added D'Artagnan.

'That is terrible. Well you are more than welcome to use the rooms,' stated the Comte with sincerity.

'Thank you,' Athos replied and bowed his head slightly.

'Um. Before you go to your rooms, I was wondering if you would meet me here in about half an hour and join me for a late dinner and some brandy. It has been a bit of a rough day for me and from what I hear, a long few days for you as well.'

The musketeers looked to each other with small smiles on their faces, 'We would be honoured,' said Athos with a small smile. The Comte beamed back at them and asked a serving girl to show them to their rooms.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi. Posting this today as Season 3 finally starts in the UK today. :)**

 **To Guest who liked the Comte de Fortier, I like him too and he is quite fun to write.**

 **Hope you enjoy this chapter and I've managed to get the brotherly banter right. :)**

* * *

Chapter Seven

The musketeers were led to their rooms by one of the Comte's serving girls and Athos opened the door to the first room. Inside were two beds with crisp white sheets, a bucket of water and some apples placed in a bowl. Lying at the foot of the beds were their four saddlebags. All of them in turn went and located their own bag before looking around the room the room in earnest.

'Nice innit,' Porthos said with a grin.

'Much better than some of the places we've stayed in, that's for sure,' agreed Aramis.

'What do you think of the Comte?' asked D'Artagnan.

'I like 'im. For a noble he cares 'bout people more than expensive property, which is rare. That makes 'im ok in my book,' Porthos said with sincerity. D'Artagnan nodded in agreement and looked to Aramis for his response, 'What he said,' the marksman replied simply.

Athos was listening to the conversation and realised it had stopped and looked up to see his brother's waiting for his comment. 'I find that nobles who desire higher status and more power are more likely to value objects over people. Fortier obviously has no desire for more power and status and is therefore not blinded by greed.' Athos turned back to his saddlebag, effectively ending the conversation.

The others looked rather stunned by Athos' statement until Aramis broke the silence, 'The wise man has spoken,' he said with a cheeky grin. Porthos and D'Artagnan roared with laughter while Athos pursed his lips, albeit with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

'Right Porthos, let's go and check out next door,' said Aramis cheerily. 'Meet you two in about fifteen minutes?' Both D'Artagnan and Athos nodded as they began to unpack their saddlebags as Aramis and Porthos entered the room next to theirs.

* * *

Rochefort sat at his desk trying to work out his scheme and whether it could possibly work. If Renard was sincere about his hatred for the musketeers he would surely appear with duke tomorrow and Rochefort needed as many pieces of his plan in place if he was to succeed in convincing them to help him and quickly, as the plan only had a small window of time to work.

The key point to the plan was the place where the ambush could take place and then allow Renard and his men to leave without being captured. Rochefort knew of a deserted shack that could be used that had a hidden exit, allowing the men to get away.

Rochefort knew that if this plan worked, he might be able to disgrace the Musketeer regiment to the point of no return, gain the king's absolute trust and bring himself closer to Anne. He just needed the Duke of Épernon to agree to help and if the duke had enough men to ambush the musketeers then he would be willing give the duke the musketeer he desired. Rochefort pondered who out of Athos, Porthos, Aramis and D'Artagnan had crossed the duke and how they would meet their end. In the end he knew it didn't matter which one it was, the inseparables would be wounded and therefore vulnerable.

* * *

Aramis poked his head around the door to inform Athos and D'Artagnan that he would meet them downstairs as he wanted to go and check on Herbert. When the other three musketeers were ready they made their way down to the room where they had previously been ushered by the Comte to find the table now laden with five plates each with a roll, a slice of ham, some cheese and some grapes.

The musketeers turned to see Fortier enter the room from a different door, 'Please sit and eat as much as you like,' he said with true warmth in his voice. The Comte noticed that there were only three musketeers before him and asked, 'Where is….erm….don't tell me his name, let me think for a moment.' The Comte's features creased as he tried to remember the name of the missing musketeer. 'Aramis?' he asked hesitantly.

As the musketeers pulled out their chairs, Athos confirmed the name of their missing brother, 'Aramis has gone to check on Herbert and will meet us here soon.'

'Thank you….Athos?' Athos nodded to confirm that the Comte had the correct name.

'Now let me see…..D'Artagnan?' Fortier nodded towards the younger man, 'And Porthos?' to the larger man now on his right. Both nodded and smiled and Fortier looked rather pleased with himself.

The musketeers settled themselves at the table and poured themselves some wine as Aramis finally entered the room.

'Aramis!' Fortier exclaimed, 'How is Herbert?'

Aramis pulled out the chair next to Porthos and sat down before he answered, 'Dr. Allard is happy with how he's recovering and hopefully he should be back to his normal self soon,' Aramis finished with a smile.

Soon they were all eating and the musketeers began to realise how hungry they had been. A bowl of apples had also been placed on the table and the musketeers took one each and Fortier explained that they came from his small orchard.

Once the plates were cleared a decanter of brandy was brought in and Fortier encouraged his servants to get some rest as it was getting rather late. The Comte poured the brandy for his guests and himself and leant back in his chair, savouring a sip of the liquid.

'Well now, I was wondering if you would tell me about these men who attacked you today?' Fortier asked looking truly interested.

'Well, we were passing a wood and we heard a gunshot,' started Athos.

'It was that gunshot that startled Herbert's horse and led to him being thrown to the ground,' interjected Aramis.

'Yes. Then we were attacked by ten men who came charging out of the trees.'

'They were pretty hopeless shots, to be honest, though one shot did only jus' miss my head.' Porthos continued.

'Aramis and I managed to kill three them with our own shots, which left us with seven men between the four of us,' said Athos matter-of-factly.

Before Athos could continue Fortier interrupted him, 'So, the four of you took on ten men!?' he asked in astonishment.

'In total, yes,' said D'Artagnan, entering the conversation for the first time. 'We fought two men each, apart from Aramis who was only fighting one-'

'I was trying to fight my opponent while making sure Herbert was ok and not treading on him,' said Aramis in mock offense.

'Oh, we just thought you wanted an easier fight,' teased D'Artagnan.

'I never hold back from a fight!'

'True, 'cos you normally start 'em,' laughed Porthos.

'Maybe we should remember that Aramis' skill with a pistol meant that he hit both his targets and as I hit one as well there were only seven men left to fight, so one of us was bound to only fight one man,' reasoned Athos before sipping his brandy.

'Thank you, Athos,' Aramis said defiantly.

Three smiles had appeared on the musketeer's faces, while Athos had settled for an amused smirk, and Fortier watched the exchange with a rather large grin on his face, noting that these men weren't just colleagues, they were more like brothers.

'Eventually, we defeated eight of our attackers, while two fled,' said Athos, turning back to Fortier. 'I followed but I heard horse's retreating so the two unfortunately escaped,' he concluded with obvious disappointment in his voice.

'Well, I'd heard that the King's Musketeers were the best soldiers in France, now I know the rumours were correct,' Fortier beamed.

'So, you said you'd had a rough day. What happened?' asked D'Artagnan.

'Somehow, the hay in one of the outer buildings caught fire and we had to douse it. I burned my forearm,' Fortier lifted his left sleeve to show a bandage, 'and Dr. Allard put some foul smelling medicine on it to help it heal.'

'Was anyone else hurt an' did the fire destroy much?' Porthos queried.

'Thankfully no, as the building was mostly empty and everyone else appears to be smarter than me. That'll teach me to leave the hero stuff others,' said Fortier with a booming laugh. 'Still, I was also worried that something had happened your convoy, as you didn't arrive in the afternoon as we had originally expected. Of course, I'm glad that Herbert will recover and no-one else was seriously injured.'

'As are we,' said Athos as he downed the rest of his brandy and the other musketeers followed suit.

Fortier soon after downed his glass as well and said, 'I suppose it's been a long day and it's time for bed. Before you go, I was wondering when you are expected back in Paris?'

'Saturday,' replied Athos.

'Well, that would be a journey that you could make easily in three days, so you wouldn't have to leave here until Thurs.' Fortier looked around and could see the slightly bemused expressions of the musketeers. 'What I'm trying to say, rather badly, is would like to stay here tomorrow?'

The musketeers again exchanged confused looks before Fortier continued, 'It was just an idea I had, to thank you for everything you've done. Rather than return to Paris straight away you could have a day of relaxation here. You are welcome to explore the grounds or do anything you like. I don't suppose you get many 'days off' and I wondered if this would be something you would consider?' he asked hesitantly, looking at each musketeer in turn.

'That is a very generous offer,' said Athos as he bowed his head slightly in respect. 'May we inform you the morning of our decision?'

'Of course, of course,' replied Fortier now beginning to smile. 'Please discuss it and if you wish to leave tomorrow as planned then my staff will make sure you have everything you need for your journey. If you wish to stay, then you are all more than welcome to and don't worry I won't bother you at all, so you can find some time to yourselves or whatever you want,' he finished with a flourish of his hands.

The musketeers turned to Fortier and in unison said, 'Goodnight Monsieur,' followed by a bow.

'Goodnight gentlemen,' Fortier called before leaving through a different door.

The musketeers climbed the steps to their rooms in silence but Athos could feel three pairs of eyes boring into the back of his skull. When Athos reached his room he turned to face his brothers.

'We know what you're going to say Athos. We are King's Musketeers and it is our duty serve him and we should get back to Paris as soon as possible-'

Aramis was then interrupted by D'Artagnan, 'But we hardly ever get time to relax-'

'An' we hardly ever get a 'day off,' finished Porthos.

Athos held up his hand to quieten his brothers, 'Actually I was going to say, that we would be stupid not to take up his generous offer as we had had very little 'time off' for months. Goodnight,' and with that Athos opened the door and walked into his room leaving his brothers stunned.

Aramis was the first to recover, 'What can I say, you think you know the man…..and then he surprises you.' The remaining musketeers all exchanged looks before bursting out laughing.

'Goodnight,' they all said in unison and turned to their rooms.

* * *

Renard urged his horse to go faster. It was almost pitch black with clouds covering the moon but Renard knew this land well and he was not far from home.

He arrived at the estate and immediately asked if the duke had retired for the night. He was told that the duke was still in his study and quickly made his way over there.

'Renard,' greeted the duke. 'I hadn't expected you back so soon.'

'I came back as fast as I could.'

'Why the hurry?'

'The Comte is agreeable with our aims. He wishes to meet you tomorrow at four o'clock outside the South gate.'

'I told you not to mention my name if possible.'

'It was necessary as he would not agree without knowing my master,' Renard decided not to say anything about being practically strangled to death.

'I see. What did he suggest in return for his help?'

'He said he was going to think about it and I'm sure he'll have his conditions when we see him tomorrow.'

'Very well, we should get some sleep. We have a lengthy journey tomorrow.'

Both men left the study eager for sleep as tomorrow was going to be a very important day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi. This chapter's a bit longer as I got a bit carried away. :) Hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think.**

 **Also all mistakes are mine.**

* * *

Chapter Eight

Renard woke early with anticipation of the day to come. If the Comte de Rochefort could truly deliver the man who took his brother from him, he would do anything. He quickly washed and dressed and then wolfed down some truly awful gruel and made his way to the stables to prepare the horses so they could leave as soon and the duke was ready.

The duke woke rather early and was soon ready to depart. He too was bristling with anticipation and energy but hoped that the Comte would indeed deliver their musketeer. Soon he was in his carriage and on his way with Renard, Simon and Boucher riding on horseback alongside him as the sun started to rise in the sky.

* * *

The musketeers woke early but all four decided to have a lie in. Rarely did they get this luxury and they didn't want to panic any of the servants if they arrived for breakfast too early. Just after 9 o'clock the four ventured down the stairs and back into the only other room they had entered. They knew they were in the right place as plates and cutlery were already set out.

As they took their seats, Aramis and Porthos on one side with Athos and D'Artagnan on the other, a maidservant walked in smiling warmly.

'What may I get you gentlemen?' she asked with a curtsy.

Ever the charmer, Aramis replied, 'We would grateful of you name Mademoiselle?'

The maidservant blushed before replying, 'My name is Sophie, Monsieur.'

'It is a pleasure to meet you Sophie. I'm Aramis and my friends are Porthos, D'Artagnan and Athos,' said Aramis indicating each man in turn. 'What are our choices for breakfast this morning?'

'Well we have grapes apples and some cheese. We can make some porridge or we can make some scrambled eggs with sausages and we have just had a delivery of salted bacon.'

At that moment Fortier entered the room, 'Good morning everyone!' he boomed. The musketeers stood as the Comte took his own seat.

'What have we got for breakfast this morning Sophie?' he asked jovially.

'I was just explaining that we have fruit, cheese, porridge, scrambled eggs, sausages and some salted bacon has just been delivered, Monsieur.'

'Oh marvellous. I think I'll have some eggs, a sausage and a rasher of that beacon please. What are you gentlemen ordering?'

'Well I don't know about anyone else but eggs, sausage and bacon sounds good to me,' smiled Aramis. He looked around to see his brothers nodding in agreement.

'Well that's settled then. Eggs, sausage and bacon for all. Sophie I suggest you give our musketeers rather larger portions than myself, after all they use up their energy which is why they don't have-' said Fortier patting his rather portly stomach while smiling broadly. 'Oh, and could you bring some fresh apple juice as well please.'

'Of course, Monsieur, 'said Sophie with a curtsy and a smile and she disappeared through the door.

Soon everyone was served their breakfast and some delicious freshly squeezed apple juice to go with it.

'The apple juice comes from my orchard,' Fortier explained. 'Have you come to a consensus about today?' Fortier eyed the musketeers warily as he didn't want to assume that they had agreed to his offer.

'Fortier, we would be honoured to accept your very generous offer,' stated Athos.

'Oh that is wonderful!' exclaimed Fortier. 'Then you may have an opportunity to see my orchard for yourselves. And don't worry, you won't have to put up with me all day either,' he laughed.

'Thank you,' the musketeers answered with well-practised unison and smiles.

* * *

After breakfast the musketeers decided to venture outside as the sun was shining brightly and it was too good a day to miss.

They all still wore their weapons belts, more out of habit than anything, but had left their leathers in their rooms as the day would soon become sweltering. They wandered the grounds for a while before Porthos spotted a pile of fresh hay that gave him a few ideas.

'I think we all need to get some energy out our systems,' he said smiling and receiving apprehensive glances from his brothers.

'So basically, you want to throw three of us into the hay?' enquired D'Artagnan with exasperation in his voice.

'Yer quick little brother,' beamed back.

'We're supposed to be relaxing Porthos, not doing what we normally do every day,' Aramis pointed out with Athos nodding beside him.

'Oh c'mon. We're all wound up and we don't know what to do with ourselves.'

Unfortunately for the other three, Porthos was right. Relaxing wasn't something that came naturally to the musketeers as their job required them to be on alert at all times. Maybe they did need a bit of a release.

'Alright, if it will make you happy Porthos,' said D'Artagnan in a resigned voice while Athos and Aramis looked at each other with expressions of defeat.

What the musketeers couldn't see was Bouchard, who had been behind, them run off to go and tell everyone what was about to happen. As D'Artagnan and Porthos removed their weapons belts, Athos and Aramis sat on a hay bale waiting their turn looking rather downbeat. Sparring with Porthos was never easy and both men knew they would soon be landing in the hay pile and Porthos would have bragging rights for the whole day.

Just as the wrestling was about to start, Bouchard arrived with Herbert, Dubois and many of Fortier's servants in tow. Suddenly the musketeers realised this training needed to also be a show and Fortier himself soon arrived and sat down on another hay bale, grinning broadly.

'Bouchard tells me that we will see you train and we're all really excited. As long as you don't mind of course,' he said with a hearty laugh.

''Course not,' said Porthos grinning from ear to ear, while D'Artagnan, Athos and Aramis groaned inwardly.

Soon the fight had started and D'Artagnan was aware that Porthos wasn't doing his best as he would have found himself in the hay almost immediately. Porthos was putting on a show. Soon though Porthos gained the upper hand and lifted D'Artagnan above his head and threw him unceremoniously into the hay and roared in victory, while taking in the applause of his audience.

D'Artagnan grumbled about the hay in his hair as he trudged back to Athos and Aramis who were having a debate over who should be next.

'Honestly Athos, I think you should go next,' insisted Aramis.

'I insist that you have the honour,' Athos retorted. 'D'Artagnan, who should go next?'

D'Artagnan sized up his friends and made his decision, 'Aramis,' he said simply. Aramis grumbled and moved to take his place opposite Porthos. The crowd were now cheering and it was becoming apparent that the female voices were certainly cheering for Aramis, which made his mood lighter.

'Ready,' Porthos grinned.

No,' came Aramis' reply as the fight started. Porthos, again, was relishing his stage and Aramis was thankful, as he could have looked rather stupid if Porthos was doing his best. Soon Porthos took the upper hand and Aramis followed D'Artagnan into the hay.

Now it was Athos' turn. The swordsman had seen Porthos holding back and hoped he could take advantage. He wasn't going to beat Porthos, he knew that, but he could at least make Porthos think.

The fight started in earnest and Porthos was indeed holding back. Athos saw his chance and sent Porthos to the floor with a quick swipe of his legs. The crowd roared at Athos' small victory but Athos could see Porthos was mad and soon he too ended up in the hay. Porthos was jubilant in victory as he held his arms aloft and roared.

'That was amazing Porthos!' cheered Fortier. 'My, I can see you are quite the force to be reckoned with.'

Aramis had disappeared but soon returned with Sophie holding what looked like some spoiling melons.

As everyone looked at him curiously Aramis said, 'Well if Porthos can show off his strength, then I should be allowed to show off mine!'

Aramis soon got the targets set up with the help of Bouchard and Dubois and the melons were big enough that an indirect shot would be noticed. Aramis had also, rather cunningly, set the targets up further away than usual, making hitting the centre more difficult.

Porthos went first and hit the top of the melon leaving a large chunk left and grumbled under his breath that Aramis had deliberately made it harder for him. D'Artagnan was next and he hit the melon to the left side, which was habit that he was still trying to get rid of but had certainly improved under Aramis' tutelage. Athos hit the melon closer to the centre than Porthos and D'Artagnan but it was still clear that it wasn't right in the middle.

Last up was Aramis. Suddenly the others tried to distract him by making noises but the marksman shut them out. His focus directly on the centre of the melon. He fired and the melon shattered showing that he had, indeed, hit the centre. Aramis turned to his adoring fans and bowed.

Porthos approached Sophie and asked her if she had anymore melons and she replied saying she had two and went to retrieve them.

'Alright Aramis. You really wanna show off?' Porthos held out one melon for D'Artagnan and they moved in line with the targets but much further to the side. D'Artagnan was on Aramis' left and Porthos on the right. Aramis quickly loaded both of his pistols.

Athos had moved to sit next to Fortier and whispered, 'Prepare to be amazed. He will leave one to the last minute for show but this is amazingly difficult.' Fortier was brimming with excitement.

'Ready?' Porthos called.

'Anytime,' Aramis called back.

Porthos and D'Artagnan counted together, 'Three. Two. One,' and launched the melons into the air. Aramis shot D'Artagnan's melon first causing it to explode violently before waiting for Porthos' melon to drop within inches of the ground before hitting hit dead centre and destroying it. Cheers rang out and Aramis soaked up the applause.

They decided to finish with some sword fighting. Porthos taking on D'Artagnan, who was determined to get revenge for the wrestling, and Athos taking on Aramis.

Porthos and D'Artagnan went first and D'Artagnan knew that Porthos' main weakness was his footwork. Porthos moved quickly for his size but couldn't keep up with the lighter and more dynamic Gascon.

The swords clashed loudly as they both took turns to attack and block each other's strikes. D'Artagnan moving as quickly as he dared, moving side to side and closer then further away, daring Porthos to keep up with him. Porthos knew D'Artagnan's skill and tried not to be distracted by it but soon found himself dancing to the young man's tune. As Porthos blocked a high blow from the younger man, D'Artagnan moved quickly under their arms and caught the back of Porthos' left leg with his left heel and sent the larger man off balance allowing the Gascon to disarm him as Porthos stumbled to the ground. D'Artagnan raised his arms in victory and then pulled the larger man to his feet. Their adoring crowd cheering loudly as both bowed to take the applause.

To finish it was Athos versus Aramis. When Athos first came to the garrison, Aramis was the only man who could challenge him but the inseparables soon became aware that D'Artagnan would soon be the second.

As the fight started it became clear that this was a battle of elegance as both men had similar fighting styles, unlike the contrast between Porthos and D'Artagnan. Their moves were silky smooth as each man attacked and blocked each other's blows. Both men moving lightly across the ground as if they were walking on air. Athos saw his chance and lunged towards his friend but Aramis had seen that move before and twirled elegantly out of the way. Both men started to breathe hard as the fight continued. In the end it was slight miscalculation on Aramis' part that allowed Athos to disarm the marksman and win the battle. The watching crowd has been silent and mesmerised throughout the encounter but now stood on their feet cheering loudly at the spectacle they had just witnessed. Aramis and Athos both took a bow before returning to their brothers who were smiling in admiration.

'Right. I think it's time for some food,' declared Fortier. 'I'm rather hungry after that display so I'm sure the four of you are famished. Dubois, Bouchard will you go and get the outdoor tables and chairs please. It's such a nice day that I think we should make the most of it and eat outside.'

No-one was going to argue with that.

* * *

Rochefort sat waiting outside the South gate wondering if he had misjudged Renard and the duke wasn't coming after all. For his plan to work he needed to have the duke on board today otherwise he would have to wait for another opportunity.

In the distance the sound of a carriage approaching woke Rochefort from his reverie and a smile appeared on his face when he recognised Renard riding alongside.

As the carriage stopped Rochefort dismounted and approached the carriage door which was opened by Renard.

'After you,' Renard said with a smile. Rochefort sat opposite the man he assumed was the duke.

'The Duke of Épernon,' the man stated grandly.

'The Comte de Rochefort,' replied Rochefort with the same tone. Both men eyed each other up as if they could see what each other was thinking and an awkward silence followed.

'We have similar goals-,' started Renard to break the silence but he was cut off by the duke.

'What do want Rochefort? Money? People?'

'Renard said you would give me anything for my help. Was he wrong to suggest that?' asked Rochefort while studying the duke's reaction.

'No,' the duke stated simply.

'Well then, what I want is quite simple. However, it does involve treason.' Rochefort watched the duke carefully and could see that this would not trouble the man. 'The king travels to Dreux tomorrow and will be escorted by musketeers. The musketeers are becoming quite a problem for me and I would like to thoroughly disgrace their regiment.'

'You want us to attack the king?' questioned Renard with shock in his voice.

'Actually, it will be the queen who will travel and it won't take me long to convince the king that she should go in his place. I, quite simply, want you to kidnap the queen.'

Silence fell in the carriage as Rochefort's proposition was considered.

'How?' was the duke's reply.

'On Friday, a group of your men will attack the royal convoy, killing the musketeers but leaving the queen unharmed. She must remain unharmed. You can then trade her whatever you like and I will lead the rescue party allowing your men to go free.'

'Where exactly would we hold her? How would we get away without it being obvious?' asked Renard with concern in his voice.

'Well, I'm glad you asked me that. There is a run-down old shack that is close to the woods on the road to Dreux It has a concealed tunnel at the back which would allow your men the chance to escape unseen. Tether your horses at the other end and you will ride away without any problems. I will make sure the attack is delayed, as the king will have lost confidence in his musketeers, I will lead the Red Guard to save her,' Rochefort replied matter-of-factly.

'How do we know this is the truth?' asked the duke with a sneer. 'You obviously have no problem betraying the crown, so why should I believe you are not betraying me?'

'Because I will show your man the areas for the ambush and the shack tomorrow. If he is not happy then-'

'We find another way,' interrupted the duke. 'I want my revenge Rochefort. No matter what it takes.'

'Then should we say we are agreed?' Rochefort offered his hand to the duke who promptly shook it whereas Renard was more apprehensive as he shook Rochefort's hand.

'Well then, perhaps it is time you told me the name of this musketeer that has so grievously wronged you,' Rochefort sneered in anticipation of the name he would hear. It was surely one of the inseparables.

A look passed between Renard and the duke before Renard spoke, 'His name is…...Aramis.'

* * *

 **A/N: Did you guess who the musketeers was? :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hope you enjoy this one. Sorry it's slightly later than usual but unfortunately my thesis has to come first.**

 **All mistakes are mine and I hope you enjoy it! :)**

* * *

Chapter Nine

'Aramis? Why him?' asked Rochefort. 'He didn't sleep with your wives did he?' Rochefort smiled but could see the thunderous looks he got in return.

'He is the reason my brother was executed for a crime he didn't commit,' snarled Renard.

'Please explain.' When no explanation was forthcoming, Rochefort said, 'We are about to commit treason of the highest level and I would like to know the reason why you want Aramis.'

'I was a loyal supporter of Marie de Medici,' explained the duke, who was now shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 'I supported her when she tried to obtain power the first time.'

'The first time?' interrupted Rochefort. 'You mean there was a second?'

'Yes, there was a second. Her Majesty told me that Louis was not the true King of France. In fact, she had originally given birth to twins.' Rochefort remained stoic and silent at this news. 'The first born was malformed,' continued the duke, 'and Louis was the second born. Her first son, Phillipe, was raised away from prying eyes and very few even knew of his existence. He was raised by the priest that had been there at the birth. She asked me to support her in her mission to become reagent for her grandson. She was adamant she could prove him the true heir and promised power and wealth for my support.'

'My brother was Vincent, one of her closest allies. He was involved in finding the child and proving Marie should be the reagent for her grandson,' explained Renard quietly, looking down at his hands in his lap.

'The child was found and brought to Paris but the musketeers couldn't leave well alone,' said the duke with his temper rising. 'They took the child and tried to help the child's mother escape with him.'

'Aramis had the chance to hand the child over but he refused!' shouted Renard. 'He threw the child into the river. The BASTARD!' Rochefort raised his hand to calm Renard.

'Let me get this straight. You believe that Aramis threw a child into a river? With all respect the man does not have a sinister streak and would never purposefully kill a child, of that I am certain,' Rochefort looked directly at Renard, waiting for him to contradict him.

'Ok. He didn't throw the child into the river on purpose. My brother told me that Aramis refused to hand over the child and when they tried to take the child by force the baby slipped from his grasp into the river,' Renard eyed Rochefort for his reaction.

'That makes far more sense. So, your brother and his men tried to take the baby from Aramis and unfortunately the child fell into the river.' Renard nodded. They sat in silence for a while and Rochefort's mind was whirring. He knew the musketeers well and while they may cause him many problems, he knew at heart they were resourceful and honourable men. Aramis would never have taken the child into danger, so it was far more likely that the event was staged and the child was safe. The child was still alive.

'It doesn't change the fact that if Aramis had handed over the child my brother would not be dead,' Renard said with pure anger in his voice, interrupting Rochefort's thoughts. 'He was executed for trying to kill Marie. They had used a threat of assassins to gain entry to the palace in the first place, Renard added, 'and the musketeers and Cardinal Richelieu sent him to his death to protect her!'

'Had Aramis handed over the child Marie would be ruling this country in the name of her grandson, the true king. Far better that than the idiot Louis. I would be a trusted advisor and Renard would still have his brother,' concluded the duke, offering his support to his man.

'So will you hand him over?' asked Renard.

'Your reasons are your own. Who am I to question them?' smiled Rochefort.

'Some of my brother's men weren't executed and, as far as I know, are still in the Châtelet. We could trade them for the queen?' asked Renard, looking to the duke.

'Yes, ok. Men are easier to hide than money as they can melt into the countryside,' the duke said dryly.

'If you give me their names, I will check if they are still in the Châtelet,' settled Rochefort. 'As for Aramis, he is still a rather large pain in my arse,' confirmed Rochefort with a smile. 'I will have him deliver a letter to you next week. Do what you want with him.'

'Surely, that will make it obvious that we are to blame for his disappearance?' questioned the duke.

'All you need do, is say he delivered the letter which you can show to anyone who comes looking. Without evidence they can't accuse you of anything,' Rochefort paused for a moment.

'A word of advice. Physical pain is not the best way to torture him,' Rochefort looked to the duke and Renard, seeing the puzzled looks on their faces. 'Emotional pain will be a far greater torture. Tell him what you are doing to his friends. Make him feel helpless.'

'But we won't have his friends?' asked Renard, still clearly confused.

'But **he** won't know that, will he?' A smile crossed Renard's face as he turned to the duke, who was also smiling.

* * *

The musketeers ate the meal with gusto as the training they had done earlier had truly tired them and left them hungry. Sophie and the other cooks had prepared a meal of chicken stew with freshly baked rolls of bread and they had apple cider to wash it down. Fortier was in his element as he explained many moments when, as a young man, he had fought he way out of situations and how he often needed the help of his older brother. The musketeers secretly wondered what had happened to Fortier's brother.

Soon the meal was finished and Fortier rose from the table, 'I'm going to have nap. After all that excitement this morning, I'm rather worn out. Not as young as I used to be,' he said with a smile.

As the musketeers rose from their seats, Fortier waved them down, 'Gentlemen, you are supposed to be relaxing and you have had too much of my company today. That wasn't the idea. Now have a good afternoon,' he waved to them.

'Good afternoon,' they replied in unison.

'Any ideas,' asked Aramis.

'I'm going to sit here and drink this wonderful cider,' replied Athos dryly.

D'Artagnan had noticed Bouchard practising his swordsmanship against an imaginary opponent, 'I'm going to go and spar with Bouchard. He needs someone to practise with,' before rushing off.

The other three musketeers watched him go as Porthos commented, 'The boundless energy of youth,' shaking his head. Aramis couldn't help but roar with laughter while Athos snorted into his cider, clearly amused.

'Right, I'm going to go exploring,' announced Aramis. 'I fancy finding the orchard.'

'I'll come too,' said Porthos as he leapt up from his chair. 'Dubois said he left our horses in one of the fields. They'll be enjoyin' that.'

They both looked to Athos who just lifted his glass that contained the cider to indicate he was staying put.

'Suit yourself,' said Aramis who had clearly understood the gesture.

'Oh Aramis,' called Athos. 'Don't shoot any birds,' he added with a wry smile. Aramis glared while Porthos laughed heartily.

Athos watched as D'Artagnan gave advice to Bouchard on the best way to hold his sword and not to hold it too tightly. As the sparring began Athos could see that Bouchard was not unskilled and recognised many of the techniques D'Artagnan was using as one's he had used on the Gascon himself. Their youngest member had certainly learnt a lot since he arrived in Paris.

Aramis and Porthos wandered for a while, commenting on the beauty of the land and the day being warm and sunny. Soon they came to the orchard and in the distance they could see their horses roaming in a field.

'See you later, I'm gonna check on t'horses,' said Porthos as he left Aramis at the edge of the orchard.

Aramis started moving between the trees and noticed a particularly ripe apple which he plucked from the branch. He was sure the Comte wouldn't mind as he bit into the apple and tasted sweet flesh with a hint of sharpness and continued to wander while eating. Soon he could hear the sound of running water and as he came to the edge of the orchard he could see a stream with fast flowing water and then a deeper section which was still. He threw the apple core onto a compost pile that was nearby and made his way towards the stream.

He sat down on the bank and was soon tempted to scoop up some water with his hands and wash his face. It was cool but wasn't cold. Aramis looked around but there was no-one in sight.

He quickly removed his boots and socks and dipped his feet in the water and found it to be refreshing. He looked around again and then removed his weapons belts, his shirt and breeches and rolled his braies over his knees. Carefully he stepped into the fast-flowing water and stopped when it came up to his knees. He looked around taking in the scenery and listening to the sounds of the countryside.

Porthos quickly found himself leaning on the fence watching the horses run gleefully through the field. The horses never got much leisure time and spent most of their time in the stables at the garrison or tied up when they were travelling. They were truly enjoying their freedom. Flip had noticed his rider and trotted over to say hello.

'Hello you,' Porthos soothed as he stroked Flip's nose. The horse closing its eyes lazily in enjoyment at Porthos' touch. Soon Flip was joined by the other three and Porthos took turns in stroking their noses as well. All four horses looked happy and relaxed and soon returned to chasing each other around the field. Porthos reflected on how their horse's friendship seem to resemble their human's.

Porthos wandered back to the orchard wondering where Aramis was. He too picked an apple and ate it while walking. He threw his apple core in the same compost pile Aramis had used and then saw something that made him smile.

'Oi Aramis!' he shouted, hoping to startle the marksman who was wearing only his braies, standing in the stream. It almost worked as Aramis lost his balance slightly but soon regained his composure.

'Porthos!' he scolded, while the larger musketeer made his way down to the stream grinning.

'Nice day for a swim,' commented the larger musketeer. 'What's it like?'

'It's not cold just cool. I think it gets deeper over there,' said Aramis pointing to the darker still water.

'Aramis, you know I'm not the best swimmer.'

'Well here,' he indicated the water up to his knees, 'you don't need to swim,' he finished cheekily. Porthos answered with a scowl as Aramis started wading into deeper water.

'Come on. It's nice,' encouraged the marksman.

Porthos finally decided to join Aramis and quickly removed his clothes until he too was only dressed in his braies. He dipped his foot cautiously into the water and headed towards Aramis. Suddenly Porthos slipped and went splashing face first into the water. He got his hands down but the water still covered his face and the front of his body and he was dripping as he stood up again.

Aramis howled with laughter but had forgotten how close to the deeper water he was. He took a step back to find nothing there and plunged into the water and for moment was completely submersed. He came up for breath spluttering with his dark curls now stuck to his forehead. Now it was Porthos turn to laugh.

'It's a bit deeper over here,' smiled the marksman.

'How deep?' asked Porthos.

'I can just about get my feet on the bottom.'

Porthos move warily into the deeper water while Aramis was now floating on his back in a star shape. Aramis realised that his braies were now practically see through, but he wasn't bothered. Due to various injuries they had all seen each other naked before and there was no-one else about.

'You have to relax to float,' Aramis told Porthos, who was struggling to float on the water. Soon though, both musketeers were floating until Aramis disrupted the peace by kicking water towards Porthos and both men started splashing wildly.

Both men were oblivious to the figure leaning against a tree watching them, with his arms folded across his chest.

'I'm surrounded by children,' the figure muttered under his breath as he moved closer to the splashing pair.

Athos reached the bank and sat down, bending his legs and resting his elbows on his knees watching his brothers.

'Hey Athos!' Aramis had noticed him. 'You should come in. It's lovely.'

'Yeah, really refreshin',' added Porthos.

'No, thank you. I'd rather remain dry,' said Athos with his usually droll.

'Really?' came D'Artagnan's voice from behind him, startling the swordsman slightly. 'Looks great,' the young man added as he started to strip off.

'Hey, D'Artagnan!' chorused Aramis and Porthos.

'Coming,' was the reply, while Athos shook his head in amusement. Splash! The Gascon was in the water and splashing around with his brothers.

Athos took his eyes off his brothers and lay flat on the bank with his head resting on his hands. He stared up at the blue sky and the wispy white clouds floating across it. He closed his eyes and dozed off. He was woken by a drop of water hitting his face. Surely it couldn't be raining, he thought.

Athos opened his eyes to see his dripping wet brothers standing over him with evil grins on their faces. In a flash, Porthos had picked him up under his armpits while Aramis had his left leg and D'Artagnan his right.

'Put me down,' Athos ordered in panic and he was duly laid on the bank again. 'What do you think you are doing?'

'Well, we've decided you're comin' in whether you like it or not,' stated Porthos with a grin.

'So, you have two options,' explained Aramis. 'First, you get undressed and come in with us.'

'Or second, we throw you in fully clothed,' continued D'Artagnan with large grin.

'Make yer choice Athos,' Porthos moved away to give Athos some room.

'I don't suppose there is a choice where I can stay dry?' questioned Athos. His reply was slow shakes of the head from his brothers while grinning.

Slowly Athos started removing his boots and soon was undressed and venturing into the water. They were right it was nice. Porthos could hold off no longer and sent a massive splash of water towards Athos who was soon splashing back with gusto. Four grown musketeers acting like children, splashing around in their underwear.

Suddenly, Aramis disappeared under the water before coming back up spluttering. Within moments Athos too had disappeared. Aramis regained his composure as Athos surfaced and both shouted, 'D'ARTAGNAN!' who surfaced close to Porthos with a mischievous smile on his face.

Porthos turned to look at the younger man, 'Oh no, yer not getting me. No way,' and continued to watch and warn the Gascon. Porthos had turned his back on Athos and Aramis, so didn't see the look that passed between them. Quietly they approached the larger man and with Aramis on Porthos' left shoulder and Athos on his right, both men simultaneously pushed Porthos' shoulders under the water and swam away in haste.

'Alright! Who...dies first?' shouted Porthos as he spluttered for air. D'Artagnan was too busy laughing and watching the others and didn't see Porthos until it was too late. Porthos lifted him over his shoulders and threw him into the water with a massive splash.

'Now Porthos, you don't want to do anything hasty,' Aramis tried to soothe his friend.

D'Artagnan came up for air, 'What….did…I…..do?' he spluttered.

'You didn't stop them,' was Porthos' simple reply.

Aramis and Athos were better swimmers than Porthos and swam in opposite directions, but Athos managed to hit his fingers on a rock causing him to stop momentarily in pain and Porthos seized his chance. The swordsman went flying and landed in the water with a splash close to D'Artagnan.

Porthos turned his attention fully to Aramis who was able to outswim his friend easily, until two sets of hands grabbed him and held him in place. Athos and D'Artagnan kept their grip on Aramis as Porthos approached.

'Some friends you are,' Aramis remarked.

'And yet, you will still call us all brothers by the end,' said Athos dryly, while D'Artagnan smiled. Soon Aramis was in Porthos' clutches and was thrown, like the others, into the water with a splash. As Aramis surfaced the four musketeer roared laughter, including Athos, who realised that he was having fun.

* * *

 **A/N: Something I read mentioned that the Duke of** **Épernon being an ally of Marie de Medici. I don't know if this was true but I used this as a base for the character. :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi. Shorter chapter today but we are moving between different scenes so I hope it runs ok.**

 **If you've been wondering where Treville is, we will see him briefly today but he will have a bigger role later on. :)**

 **Hope you enjoy it. :)**

* * *

Chapter Ten

The musketeers finally emerged from the stream onto the bank after thoroughly tiring themselves out but all were more relaxed than they had been for a very long time and enjoying the warm sunshine.

'Right. Shall we go back to the house,' D'Artagnan asked having scooped up his clothes and weapons, but only received mocking smiles in return as the others lay down on the bank. 'What?'

'Well if you want to go back to the house….then go,' smiled Aramis. 'But even I'm not so bold to been seen in my see-through braies,' he finished chuckling as Porthos laughed and Athos smirked.

'Ah. Hadn't thought of that,' replied the Gascon, finally noticing the state of his attire.

'Clearly,' said Athos dryly.

D'Artagnan lay down in between Athos and Aramis looking slightly embarrassed that he hadn't noticed how much of him was on show, in fact how much of all of them was on show. With the warmth of the day the musketeers were sure they would dry off relatively quickly and all secretly hoped that no-one spotted them. They watched the white clouds dance across the blue sky as the sun started getting lower.

'I wonder how the captain's doing?' D'Artagnan wondered.

'Clearly, he is upset at his unjust demotion,' Athos remarked.

'Rochefort was surely behind it, of that we can be certain,' added Aramis.

'He's got a lot on his mind and some well stashed secrets,' said Porthos with an air of mystery, but he didn't elaborate.

'I don't envy him. He is still expected to run the garrison until a new captain is named, yet he is no longer afforded the title he wore so proudly in service of the king,' Athos stated simply.

'He didn't do anything wrong and has always been loyal to Louis, but he gets demoted by a king who couldn't see the truth if it smacked in the face sometimes,' Aramis shook his head in frustration.

'Careful Aramis, that could be called treason,' warned Porthos with a glint in his eyes.

'Only if you tell,' Aramis replied with a grin.

'No matter what, he will always be **our** captain though,' said D'Artagnan purposefully, as the others nodded in agreement.

* * *

Treville sat in his office finalising the musketeers who would accompany the king to Dreux. Although he was no longer captain, someone still had to see that the garrison was run properly and he had the distinct impression that none of the men thought any less of him without his title and most still thought of him as their captain. As much as it was comforting, it was also making it difficult to adjust to his new position which would become even harder when a new captain was assigned. Maybe that would be the time for change and Treville mused that he may leave Paris and perhaps France altogether.

Treville sighed as looked over the list again. Joubert, Michel, Boudain, Duval, Fabian and a new recruit Leclerc. At times like this he missed the inseparables and would have felt much happier with them guarding the king, but they had earned their reward as Treville was sure Fortier would have convinced them to stay an extra day at his estate. He hoped they were indeed enjoying their 'day off' and smiled at the thought of his best men relaxing where no-one could hurt them.

* * *

Rochefort watched as the duke's carriage disappeared into the distance with the promise that 20 of his finest men would travel to the wood that surrounded the road from Paris to Dreux in La Queue-les-Yvelines, ready to ambush the royal party. Renard was at his side and assured Rochefort that they would arrive by Thursday evening, ready for the attack on Friday, as long as Renard believed that Rochefort's plan would work.

'We will travel out to the site tomorrow morning ahead of the queen,' Rochefort informed Renard. 'I must be back at the Louvre by the evening and everything will be in place.'

'How are you goin' to convince the king that the queen should go instead?' asked Renard.

'That won't be a problem. Trust me.'

Anne quietly waited for Constance to answer her but soon realised that she wasn't going to get an answer from the woman seated beside her.

'Constance?' she tried again. 'Are you alright?'

Finally Constance turned to look at Anne, 'I'm sorry Your Majesty, what did you say?' asked Constance with a muffled voice.

'I asked if you were alright but clearly you're not,' Anne said raising her voice and smiling sweetly.

'I'm fine,' came the muffled reply.

Anne took Constance's hands in hers and said, 'Go and get some rest. You need it. You'll only make yourself worse if you don't.'

'I will be ok. I can rest later.'

'Constance don't make me order you to rest,' Anne said with a stern yet warming smile.

Constance finally gave in, 'Thank you, Your Majesty,' and rose from her seat, curtsied and left the room with Anne watching after her.

* * *

Rochefort instructed Renard to find a place to sleep for the night and then join him in his study after dawn as they would need to get to the La Queue-les-Yvelines wood as soon as possible. Rochefort now needed to find a way to bring up the meeting in Dreux and convince the king that the queen should go instead.

He didn't have to think for very long as a messenger announced that the king wished to meet him immediately. When Rochefort arrived Louis was pacing in his chambers looking thoroughly distracted.

'Ah Rochefort,' exclaimed Louis, having noticed the man's arrival before it could be announced. 'I need your advice about something.' Rochefort waited silently, anticipating that Louis' dilemma would indeed be about the trip to Dreux.

'This trip to meet the Duke of Mayenne in Dreux. How important do you think it is that I go?' asked the king.

Rochefort smiled internally. This was going to be easier than he'd thought.

'Sire, the Duke of Mayenne is an important ally and we need his support to allow trade to move through his lands freely. He will certainly see it as a slight if he is not greeted by royalty,' Rochefort said, hoping that the king may come to the conclusion he wanted without too much prodding.

'I know. I know. But the man is so arrogant and thinks he is my equal. I am the KING!' Louis huffed and sat down on the bed looking dejected.

'As much as you dislike the man sire, he is still powerful and offending him could cause many problems,' Rochefort said with slight annoyance in his voice at the childish behaviour of the king. Clearly Louis was not going to come up with the needed answer by himself as the king now lounged on his bed sulking like a child.

'But I don't want to go!' Louis answered with a childlike whine. Rochefort fought hard to stop himself rolling his eyes. He was going to have to make the suggestion himself.

'Then a compromise perhaps. What if the queen were to go in your place? Surely the duke could not be offended by the presence of the queen?' Rochefort watched Louis closely and could see the man starting to smile broadly and knew he had what he came for.

'Excellent idea Rochefort. The duke cannot be unhappy with the queen being there,' said Louis, now with a large grin on his face. 'All the relevant documents are signed and all he need do it sign them.'

'We could say that Your Majesty regrets his inability to meet but he had to deal with pressing state matters,' Rochefort suggested.

'You are amazing Rochefort,' Louis beamed. 'I suppose you better go and tell Anne of my decision,' Louis waved his hand to dismiss Rochefort who bowed before leaving.

* * *

Queen Anne was in her chambers reading when she heard a knock at the door. 'Come in,' she answered. 'Rochefort. What you brings you here?'

'Your Majesty,' Rochefort started formally with a bow, 'the king has decided that he cannot travel to Dreux due to state business.'

'You're not serious?'

'He has decided that Your Majesty should travel instead.' Rochefort looked up to see the look of shock on Queen Anne's face which quickly turned to anger.

'He cannot do this,' and Anne quickly headed towards her husband's chambers with Rochefort in tow.

She opened the doors with force and glared directly at her husband. 'Ah, Anne. You seem unhappy?' he questioned

'Louis, the Duke of Mayenne may see this as a slight if you are not there. This could cause many problems including the supply food to Paris.'

'How can he slighted by the presence of my queen? Besides I have things to do here….state business.'

'And what business would that be? Anne's tone was cold and full of anger at her husband neglecting his duty.

'Things that only concern kings! You have no right to question me. I am the king and I have made my decision. You will travel to Dreux in my place.' Anne turned on her heel and stalked out of the room breathing heavily and shaking with anger at her husband.

'Are you alright, Your Majesty,' said Rochefort who startled Anne and she regained her composure.

'If my husband won't do his duty then I must,' she responded defiantly. 'Have a message sent to Captain Treville. I must see him immediately.' Anne walked purposefully towards her chambers while Rochefort congratulated himself on securing the first part of his plan.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi everyone Chapter 11 today. Originally thought I could finish this in 10. Seems my first multi-chapter story is taking a bit longer than I thought. :)**

 **I hope you are all enjoying it and not getting bored. We'll be getting to the action stuff soon, I promise. :)  
**

 **All reviews welcome.**

* * *

Chapter Eleven

Treville was in his office sipping whisky while staring at the papers on his desk. Soon it wouldn't be his desk but for now it remained his. He was sure the men he had chosen for the trip to Dreux were the right one's for the job and prided himself on his ability to pick the right men for the right job.

Treville took his whisky and walked over to the door gently laying his hand on the handle. After a brief pause he opened the door to hear the hustle and bustle of the courtyard. He leant on the bannister with crossed arms and watched his men. Some were sparring while others were milling around. Some were helping Jacques the stable boy and some had commandeered the inseparables table in their absence. Treville smiled as he remembered the times he had called down to the three, now four, men who often sat at that table. Sometimes he called them for missions and sometimes it was to give them a bollocking for acting like idiots.

Treville sighed deeply as he realised that soon he would longer enjoy watching his men from on high and he downed the rest of his whiskey in one gulp. He was startled by the arrival of a messenger whom recognised from the palace. This must be Louis wanting to know who had been assigned for guard duty, he thought. Treville turned into his office and picked up the parchment with the assigned musketeers and headed back out to meet the messenger.

The man climbed the steps quickly and delivered his message, 'Her Majesty the Queen wishes to see you immediately.'

'The queen,' questioned Treville in surprise. 'Do you know why?'

'I was told it was a matter of the highest importance.'

Treville nodded and turned back to attach his weapons belt and find his cloak and hat.

'Jacques,' he called. 'Saddle my horse quickly please,' as the boy ran off to do as he was told. Soon Treville was on his way to the palace with the messenger alongside him wondering why it was the queen who wanted to see him.

* * *

The musketeers had mostly dried off in the heat and were now getting dressed once more. As Aramis put his foot into his right boot he withdrew his foot quickly shouting, 'Ow!' the marksman having forgotten that he had placed his chain and beloved crucifix in his boot for safe keeping during the swim. For some reason the others found this quite funny.

Once everyone was dressed, albeit their breeches and shirts were still a bit damp, the musketeers set off back to the Comte's house in good spirits. Only Athos had a touch of melancholy about him as he remembered the carefree days on his own estate.

As they walked back through the orchard they couldn't help but stare at the beauty of the trees and the slightly strange shadows that were being cast by the angle of the setting sun. Soon they were insight of the house and saw Dubois grinning at their arrival.

'Found the stream then? Lovely at this time of year.'

'Yeah. That one took a bit of convincing though,' laughed Aramis as he pointed at Athos.

'I will admit, that in the end, it was rather refreshing. But I still don't appreciate you all ganging on me,' came Athos' reply with a friendly glare.

'Ah, you're glad we did really. Otherwise you'd have missed out on all the fun!' grinned Porthos.

'I was happy lying on the bank.'

'Yeah but you did enjoy pushing Porthos under the water though!' said D'Artagnan looking between the two men with a wide grin. Aramis snorted with laughter and Porthos growled.

'Well yes. That **was** fun,' Athos smirked, looking at his brothers and back to Dubois. 'Do you know when supper will be served?'

'Soon. I'm guessing you must all be really hungry?' observed Dubois as the musketeers all nodded in agreement.

'How is Herbert doing?' asked Aramis.

'He's doing well. Dr. Allard is happy with his progress,' said Dubois with a smile. 'The doctor was most complimentary about your initial aid Aramis,' he added.

'Well,' said Aramis placing his hand over his heart with a smile, 'I've had a lot of practise,' looking around at his brothers, who all rolled their eyes and huffed.

Soon they arrived back at the house and were informed that their supper was ready for them.

* * *

Queen Anne was pacing in her chambers when she heard a knock at the door. 'Come in,' she called. 'Ah, captain,' she smiled as Treville entered the room and bowed.

'I understand that you wished to see me urgently,' said Treville while watching the queen, who had resumed her pacing. When she said nothing, Treville felt he should press the matter, 'Has something happened, Your Majesty?'

Anne stopped pacing, sighed and then waved away her ladies to leave them alone in the room. Technically, she was never to be left alone with any man but she didn't want them hearing what she had to say.

She looked Treville in the eyes before huffing slightly and then explaining, 'Louis had decided that he has more important things to do than meet the Duke of Mayenne and that I should go in his place.' Anne watched Treville for his reaction and with some satisfaction saw the anger and annoyance that briefly crossed his features before he returned to the composed and unreadable face that he wore so well.

When he spoke his voice was neutral to those who did not know him, but Anne could still hear the irritation behind his words, 'Has the king a prior engagement that would stop him seeing the duke?' he asked.

'Something like that,' was her only reply, telling Treville all he needed to hear. This time Treville could not control his reactions and turned away from the queen while he closed his eyes and breathed in slowly and out deeply before returning to look at her.

'I see you share my exasperation,' stated Anne with a weak smile, while Treville could only nod as he feared saying what he really thought may construe to treason. 'I would like to know the names of the musketeers who will be accompanying me tomorrow.'

Treville looked down at the piece of parchment with the names of the musketeers he had originally assigned for the king, 'The men who will accompany you tomorrow are, Joubert, Michel, Boudain, Duval, Fabian and Leclerc. I am confident that you will be safe under their protection.'

Treville could see the queen was uneasy and he thought he knew the reason why, 'I am afraid that Athos and the others are not due back until Saturday, otherwise I would have assigned them to this trip.' Treville could see his hunch was correct as Anne sighed and gave a small smile of resignation. Treville knew the queen had a bond with those particular musketeers, especially after their defence of her against the assassin and the subsequent reveal of the cardinal's true colours.

Anne bowed her head and twiddled her fingers nervously before asking, 'Captain, would you accompany me tomorrow, please? I would feel safer with you in the entourage. I'm sure your men will provide adequate protection…but I do not know any of them and,' she looked up to see Treville now looking directly at her with a softened expression.

'It will be my honour to accompany you, if that is what you wish, Your Majesty,' he said with a bow. Anne smiled in relief at his words and Treville couldn't help but smile back.

'When do we leave?'

'I would hope to leave by 9 o'clock in the morning, Your Majesty,' stated Treville.

'Then, I will make sure I am ready by then,' Anne smiled as Treville bowed and left.

* * *

Rochefort looked at the map one last time and decided he needed to leave early tomorrow morning. He wanted to make sure that they arrived in the wood well before the royal entourage. It would allow him to show Renard how best to ambush the queen and they could seek out the perfect place for the ambush. Rochefort also knew that Madame Bonacieux would most likely accompany the queen and this might be a perfect time to rid himself of this particular pebble in his shoe.

Rochefort got up from his desk to go and check on the queen and to see if he could find out what she had said to Treville. It had annoyed him to hear her refer to Treville as captain, especially when he no longer deserved the title. Anne was often loyal to a fault, he mused.

He rounded the corner to find Treville startled by his appearance.

'Rochefort,' Treville said curtly.

'Treville,' Rochefort replied, making it obvious that he remembered that Treville was no longer captain.

'Excuse me. I have preparations to make.' Treville moved around Rochefort swiftly and headed towards the staircase.

'Surely you have already decided on the musketeer escort and haven't left it to the last minute?' Treville turned to Rochefort, glaring with a face like thunder at the smug man before him.

'If you must know, Her Majesty has asked me to accompany her and I had not anticipated being needed. Now I must go and prepare for tomorrow.' Treville turned on his heel while Rochefort's face broke into a devilish grin. This was perfect. He could disgrace the musketeers and Treville together and, of course, bring himself closer to his beloved Anne. This plan may work after all.

* * *

Rochefort headed towards the king's chambers repeating in his head what he would say to explain his absence tomorrow, then the door opened and His Majesty stood before him.

'Your Majesty,' Rochefort bowed.

'Rochefort. Do you need something?' the king asked curiously.

'I will need some time off tomorrow.' Rochefort glanced at Louis before continuing, 'It is a private matter, but one of vital importance.'

'A private matter you say.' Louis paused but Rochefort did not elaborate. 'Well, I hope you are able to sort it out quickly. You know how much you are needed here.'

'Thank you, Your Majesty,' Rochefort replied before bowing and turning away. Now he needed to sleep for tomorrow was a very important day.

* * *

The musketeers once again found themselves sat around the table with Fortier to have supper. They had cold roasted chicken breast with bread rolls and cheese, washed down with cider and after, the Comte had some strawberries brought out which were deliciously ripe and sweet. D'Artagnan seemed to be particularly savouring them.

'So you enjoyed your day?' Fortier asked beaming, receiving nods of agreement from the musketeers. 'What did you get up to?'

'Well Aramis found the stream…..' started D'Artagnan.

'Yeah an' convinced us all to go for a swim,' chuckled Porthos.

'Well, some took more convincing than others,' Aramis chortled while staring directly at Athos.

'Oh. You don't like to swim Athos?' questioned the Comte.

'I don't mind swimming,' Athos replied, 'in fact I find it rather relaxing but I don't like being accosted into the water by the men I call brothers,' he finished smirking and raising an eyebrow, while staring at each brother in turn.

'Athos. I thought we went through this,' Aramis said with a sigh. 'You enjoyed it really and for the first time in a while you actually had fun.' Aramis finished, smiling.

'I never said I didn't have fun. But that does not excuse your forceful nature of convincing me to go in in the first place,' Athos retorted with an amused glare at Aramis, who never broke the eye contact.

'Shall we just agree that we all had a good, relaxing day,' interjected D'Artagnan.

'What he said,' agreed Porthos, nodding his head in the Gascon's direction.

Athos raised an eyebrow while Aramis tilted he head slightly to the left as they decided to agree with their brothers, both sporting smirks on their lips.

As silence fell in the room Fortier decided to break it, 'Well I must say, I am glad that you have all enjoyed your day here. I have truly enjoyed having you as guests. How about a brandy before bed?'

The musketeers all nodded and said, 'Thank you,' together. Fortier poured a rather generous amount of brandy into each glass as he then took a sip from his own.

'I am aware that I mentioned my brother earlier,' Fortier said suddenly. 'You have all been polite enough not to ask-'

'It is not our business so we do not pry,' Athos interrupted.

Fortier looked at each musketeer in turn before speaking, 'I don't often talk about my brother. In many ways he is the reason I am the way I am.' He paused to look at the men before him. Athos' face was expressionless, Aramis and Porthos looked mildly interested, though they were trying to hide it but D'Artagnan could not hide his eager interest like the others. He had yet to master the mask that hides emotions. Fortier smiled to himself.

'Would you like to hear it?'


	12. Chapter 12

**Hi. Longer chapter today, mainly about Fortier and his reasons with hopefully some humour mixed in.**

 **Warning: There are descriptions of racial prejudice and slavery. This is not meant to offend and is merely my interpretation of how things may have been at the time.**

 **Hope you enjoy the chapter. :)**

* * *

Chapter Twelve

'Would you like to hear it?' Fortier asked the musketeers. The musketeers all exchanged looks before slowly nodding in agreement.

Fortier smiled and took a sip of his brandy. He didn't know why but he felt a strong bond with these men and wanted them to know the truth. 'Well I suppose it all starts with the fact that I was the second born son. Unlike my brother Henri, who was to take the title and inherit the lands, I didn't have much expected of me. Thus, I was allowed far more freedom than him. All the focus was on him to be worthy of inheriting the lands when my father died, while I was rather left to my own devices.'

Athos watched the Comte before him and could hear the many parallels between him and Thomas. He had always been expected to take the title of Comte de la Fère and had to learn the etiquette and politics involved, while Thomas had a far freer leash allowing him to do things were deemed unfit for Athos.

Athos stirred form his thoughts as Fortier continued to speak, 'That is not to say I was uneducated, far from it. It just meant that if I missed my lessons that it wasn't quite as important.'

The musketeers were listening intently while sipping their brandy, while Athos continued to see the similarity between Fortier's and his own upbringing.

'While my brother developed an importance, that included the title he would take, I spent many afternoons playing with the children of the village. I saw no difference between us, only I lived in a larger house that housed more people.' The Comte took a sip of his brandy before continuing, 'Of course as time went on I and they realised that we were from different places but we believed that it didn't stop us from being friends. Unbeknown to me, Henri had followed me one day and then told my father what had happened. He made it clear that he believed these people to be beneath him, but I knew that wasn't true. My father was outraged and confined me to the house.'

Fortier smirked as he remembered, 'That of course didn't stop me and I snuck out anyway,' he said with a laugh.

'You sound like right trouble,' Porthos chuckled.

'Indeed, indeed. But I suppose the day that truly made me realise that no-one is born better than anyone was when I was out on the road. Admittedly I shouldn't have been there. A coach had stopped, which obviously belonged to a rich man, and he had a slave with him.' Fortier looked towards Porthos as the large musketeer bristled and Aramis placed a soothing hand on his friend's forearm.

'You must understand, that at this point I didn't know anything different. This was how things were,' Fortier hurriedly tried to explain, while Porthos just nodded in agreement and sipped his brandy.

'I had gotten close to the horses that pulled the carriage,' Fortier continued, 'and one of the horses startled and would have kicked me had the slave not pulled me back at the last second. I must admit, I do not know the man's name. But what I witnessed next will stay with me forever.' Fortier looked around the musketeers and knew this was a difficult part of this story but he had to tell it as it was. He knew from his previous reaction that Porthos would take it badly but Fortier also knew that Porthos would not blame him as the man clearly bristled at the thought of slavery but had clearly not meant any harm to Fortier himself.

'The slave was beaten by his master for daring to touch a noble boy,' Fortier heard gasps from the musketeers and a very low growl from Porthos. Aramis squeezed Porthos forearm in reassurance.

'Unfortunately, my father chose that moment to appear and agreed with the slave's master that he should be punished for touching me. I was only about ten years old and I couldn't understand why this man was being punished for saving me. I shouted, 'He saved me' over and over again but no-one would listen. I realised that day that your birth right doesn't make you a better person than anyone else. The man had saved my life and didn't deserve to be treated the way he was. I did manage to thank him before my father dragged me away but father made it clear I was never to find myself in the company of slaves again. But to me that man was greater than his master and I resolved I would judge people by who they are, not by the colour of their skin or the circumstances of their birth.' Fortier looked directly at Porthos and could see the hurt and pain in the man's eyes, as well as the understanding.

Porthos nodded towards Fortier and then spoke, 'You're a better man than many. I apologise if my reaction has offended you. My mother was a slave and I still receive many slights due to the colour of my skin.'

'You have no need to apologise. I understand your reaction completely but it is that incident that has changed me for the better.' Porthos nodded at the Comte's words before finishing his brandy. Fortier picked up the decanter and poured generous measures for everyone as the musketeers uttered their thanks.

'So what happened to you brother?' D'Artagnan asked wanting to change the nature of the conversation.

'Ah yes. He was killed, rather foolishly, in a duel with another nobleman's son. Resulting in me becoming the Comte. You know, I had wished to travel the country and would have been allowed to if it were not for my brother's death. I suppose that's why I allow my son's their freedom.' Fortier looked around to see the enquiring glances.

'My wife Alize,' he indicated the portrait that hung behind him. 'Beautiful wasn't she?'

'Yes, definitely,' agreed Aramis.

'It was arranged of course. I only met her on our wedding day,' Fortier paused as he saw the look of disgust on D'Artagnan's face. 'Unfortunately it is a custom among noble families,' Fortier explained looking directly at D'Artagnan who looked away sheepishly. 'My father had told me that I must consummate our marriage that night but I couldn't do that. Alize was shaking like a leaf and she later told me of the horror stories that had befallen her friends on their wedding nights.'

At this Fortier noticed Aramis' expression darken while the other musketeers shifted awkwardly, understanding what would have happened to these women. 'Fortunately we came to truly realise that we did indeed like each other and in the end we grew to love each other. Three sons and two daughters,' he beamed.

'My eldest son is running around France taking in all he can, while making sure he is in constant contact should we need him here. My middle son is touring Italy and says it is because of the beautiful architecture,' Fortier smiled as Aramis snorted in to his brandy, drawing smirks from his brothers. 'Yes, Aramis I tend to agree with you, I'm sure he has other entertainment.'

'Well I hear that Italian women are very beautiful…..and very passionate,' Aramis added with a twinkle in his eye.

'Are you speaking from experience Aramis?' Fortier countered.

Porthos booming laughter filled the room as Aramis, for once, looked rather sheepish. 'What was her name Aramis? Madame….'

'Madame Errani,' Aramis confirmed now blushing.

'That was it!' Porthos howled.

Aramis looked around the table to see Fortier and D'Artagnan looking at him curiously while Athos sported a small quirk of his mouth while sipping his brandy with his eyes fixed on his brother.

'Ok. I will admit that even I found her a bit too passionate for my liking,' Aramis sighed. Porthos was roaring with laughter as Aramis sipped his brandy.

'She was all over you like a rash. Took quite a fancy to you,' Porthos grinned.

'A rather hot, prickly rash if truth be told,' Aramis squirmed.

'I don't think I've ever seen you so uncomfortable in a woman's company brother,' Athos remarked dryly. D'Artagnan was grinning widely and Fortier was smiling.

'Can we change the subject please,' Aramis asked in desperation.

'Forgive me Aramis. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable,' Fortier apologised with sincerity.

Aramis looked at Fortier and then his brothers and said, 'It's not you, it's them! And to think I call you brothers,' he huffed at his fellow musketeers. Porthos raised his hands in surrender while still grinning and D'Artagnan did the same. Athos merely glanced at his brother and back to Fortier.

'What of you third son? Athos enquired.

'Oh he is in England. Tells me that it rains a lot but he has wonderful things to say about the countryside,' Fortier beamed. 'My eldest daughter married the son of the Duke of Mayenne. Of course, it wasn't meant to happen but she captured his heart and he said he would refuse the title if he wasn't allowed to marry her. Being the only son, the duke had no choice but to agree. My younger daughter just married the son of the local butcher,' Fortier chuckled. 'They love each other, that much is obvious. Who was I to get in the way?' There was small pause as everyone drank some brandy.

'Now,' Fortier rubbed his hands together, 'you have listened to me for too long. Would you mind telling me of some of your adventures please? I would love to hear of your heroic exploits,' he finished smiling enquiringly.

'Actually not much happens to us,' responded Athos. 'Most of it is guard duty.'

'Yeah, can't beat standing around watching the high society of France havin' fun,' Porthos said sarcastically.

'Oh come now. There must a mission that you take pride in,' Fortier pushed.

'I suppose our finest hour, well couple of days, was protecting the queen from an assassin,' Aramis mused and the others nodded in agreement. 'And subsequently exposing the true hirer of the assassin.'

'An assassin going after Her Majesty? You must be the best to be protecting the queen. Of course your display earlier today already told me as much,' Fortier said with sincerity. 'Who would do such a terrible thing?'

'Aramis and I found shelter at a convent so we could make a stand. Those two, 'indicating Porthos and D'Artagnan, 'rode back to Paris for reinforcements. Thankfully, we prevailed but I will admit that it was a close call.' Aramis was nodding in agreement as look passed between the men acknowledging that no more needed to be said.

'Well protecting the queen is certainly a great honour and seems it you we have to thank for Her Majesty's safety,' Fortier declared.

'We did rather enjoy exposing the man that hired the assassin,' commented D'Artagnan.

'Yeah, lot of actin',' smiled Porthos.

'For reasons we won't go into, we staged Athos' murder by D'Artagnan,' Aramis explained.

'Rather well I might add,' beamed the Gascon.

'The funeral was upsettin' though,' Porthos said sincerity.

'Yes, you even shed a tear,' Aramis nudged Porthos with his elbow. 'Although, I'm pretty sure the captain may have wanted to kill us both by the end of it!' Porthos laugh filled the room.

'I am glad that the idea of my demise is so amusing to you,' Athos said sarcastically.

Fortier couldn't help but smile at the casual banter between the men who clearly cared a lot about each other.

'Generally, the rest is travelling and getting into scrapes with bandits and the like,' said D'Artagnan returning the conversation to its original context. 'For example our trip here.'

'Keeps us on our toes,' chuckled Porthos.

'We do manage to have some lighter moments though,' Aramis stated mysteriously looking between Athos and Porthos. 'I don't think we told you of this particular prank,' he smiled at D'Artagnan. Athos tipped his head back onto the chair and groaned quietly.

'C'mon Athos. It was a great prank,' Porthos beamed. D'Artagnan leaned forward eagerly but Athos ignored him.

'Come now Athos. You can't not tell us,' Fortier grinned and sipped his brandy.

'Fine I'll start,' Aramis declared. 'We were out on a hunt with the king and some nobles. We were stationed with the Comte de… what was his name?' Aramis looked around but Porthos shrugged and Athos creased his brow trying to remember. 'Anyway his name is not important. He had taken rather a disliking to Porthos.'

'Yes, he was uttering slights every moment that he could,' confirmed Athos.

Porthos shrugged, 'You know I'm used to it but it was really gettin' on their nerves,' Porthos nodded his head towards his brothers.

'The man was abominable Porthos,' Aramis said passionately.

'Anyway back to the story,' Athos interrupted what would be a long rant from Aramis otherwise. Athos was aware that D'Artagnan was eagerly watching him as was Fortier. 'I decided to teach the man a lesson.' Suddenly there was a mischievous twinkle in Athos' eyes.

'He had mentioned that he wasn't fond of, as he described them, creepy crawlies,' Athos mouth twitched in an upward curve. 'I wasn't happy with his treatment of Porthos so I captured a rather large spider that was near the campsite in one of the spare jars Aramis carries around.'

'I carry spare jars to collect herbs and such. If I can pick them myself I can be sure they are good quality. Only the best for my brothers will do,' Aramis chimed.

'Well I'd captured the spider and we put a few holes in the jar lid to keep it alive,' Athos continued. 'I placed the jar in his bed roll and he found it not long after. I hadn't meant to be present but I was there when he found the jar. As expected he was terrified.' At this both Aramis' and Porthos' faces formed large knowing grins as D'Artagnan watched their reaction and could feel Athos shifting slightly next to him.

'What I didn't expect was for him to be so terrified that he dropped the jar so that jar smashed and the spider could escape. The spider ran up his leg and eventually settled on the frozen man's shoulder.' Porthos and Aramis were now roaring with laughter as D'Artagnan laughed and Fortier chuckled.

'I then managed to flick the spider away but, let's say, he wasn't amused. Captain Treville corned us the next day. He couldn't prove it was us-,'

'But that didn't stop the bollocking he gave us anyway,' summed up Porthos.

Fortier looked confused for a moment, 'Surely it was only Athos who should have been reprimanded?'

Athos, Aramis and Porthos all exchanged looks before raising their glasses, 'All for one,' they said in unison and drank their remaining brandy.

'Of course Captain Treville didn't punish us for the rotting fish we left in Cardinal Richelieu's study,' D'Artagnan remembered.

'The cardinal had so many enemies it could have been anyone,' Aramis said casually.

'True but he definitely suspected us,' Porthos said with amusement in his voice.

'To be honest, I think he found it rather funny,' Athos said with his usual tone and silence fell between the men.

'Well gentlemen, I must say, I'm glad I haven't been on your bad list!' Fortier boomed with a laugh. The musketeers nodded in response. 'I suppose it is time for bed.'

Fortier and the musketeers rose from their seats and made their way to get some rest.

* * *

Back in Paris Queen Anne was struggling to sleep her mind unable to switch off with the events of the coming day. Most of all she knew she would miss the presence of her musketeers. She knew that they were still the King's Musketeers but the four of them held a special place in heart, especially Aramis. Whenever there had been trouble he had been there to save her. Always there to save her. She closed her eyes again and eventually drifted off into a restless sleep. She didn't know why but she was truly worried about this trip.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi. Ok this chapter is slightly all over the place as I'm trying to get everyone in the right place. It is a bit shorter because of that. I hope it still makes sense.**

 **Just a reminder that all mistakes are mine and I don't own anything! :)**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

Rochefort was happier than he had ever been. Anne was in his arms and he could finally enjoy his time with her. They were free. She looked at him with affection radiating through her eyes, love in her eyes. He held her close to him feeling the warmth of her body beside him and sighed contentedly.

Knock, knock. Someone was knocking on the door. They would go away he was sure. Knock, knock. Rochefort opened his eyes to find himself alone in his bed and someone continuing to rap at the door. He sighed. Another dream.

'What?' he shouted as the knocking finally ceased. He opened the door to see a servant standing before him, staring at the ground.

'What boy?' Rochefort asked.

'Forgive me sir, but you asked me to rouse you as the sun rose this morning,' the boy said shifting his eyes between Rochefort and the floor. Rochefort suddenly remembered the reason for his early morning wakeup call and smiled. Today was a very important day.

'Of course. Forgive me, I have never been a morning person. Would you bring me some breakfast?'

'Of course sir,' the boy bowed and left.

Rochefort started to dress as he mused over his plan for the day. Once Renard was on board with his plan he would then be able to convince Louis that the musketeers were no longer fit for purpose. Treville was set to accompany Her Majesty and his disgrace would be complete and he would not be there to argue the Musketeers' case. Even better, the four most annoying musketeers would not be here to thwart him. Once he had rescued Anne from his planned kidnapping she would surely be grateful towards him. She would no longer trust the musketeers and her faith would be solely with him. Only him.

* * *

Treville woke early after a restless night eager to have his men ready for Her Majesty. If truth be told, he was rather annoyed at Louis for shirking his duty and making the queen go instead. He ate breakfast quickly before making sure his men were ready to go to the palace. Treville had decided that Leclerc would not accompany them as he was a newly commissioned musketeer and Treville had decided that with his own inclusion, six men were enough. Soon the six musketeers exited the garrison to go and await Her Majesty for the trip to Dreux.

* * *

Renard found himself outside Rochefort's study and quietly knocked. The door opened and Rochefort motioned for Renard to enter.

'Are you ready for today?' Rochefort enquired.

'Yes. But I will be the judge of whether this plan has merit,' Renard replied with an air of authority.

'Believe me. You won't be disappointed. After all, I will give you Aramis afterwards.'

'You assure me that Aramis will be ours. He is all we want.'

'Of course. Committing treason tends to bind people together. I will send Aramis to you a few days after our plan has succeeded.'

'What if it doesn't succeed?'

'It will.'

Rochefort turned away and continued to pack and soon he and Renard mounted their waiting horses and set off on the road towards Dreux.

* * *

Anne was distracted as her ladies helped her to dress. She hadn't slept well the night before and was still apprehensive about this journey. Even worse, she was going to have to tell Constance that Lady Sarah would accompany her. Anne was sure Constance was more unwell than she would admit and Anne didn't want to risk her on this journey. Constance would surely protest but Anne had made her decision and would not go back on it.

The doors opened and Constance entered before curtsying, 'Your Majesty.'

'Constance. How are you feeling?' asked Anne.

'I am well Your Majesty,' Constance replied but Anne could hear the croak in her voice and knew she had made the right decision. Constance looked around and could already see Lady Sarah wearing her travelling cloak.

Anne seeing Constance's look confirmed, 'Lady Sarah will be accompanying me today.' Constance opened her mouth to reply but thought better of it.

Anne moved swiftly over to where Constance stood and took her friends hands in hers, 'I will not have you risk your health for me. Captain Treville will be accompanying me and will back tomorrow.'

'Please allow me to come with you, Your Majesty,' pleaded Constance, looking her friend directly in the eyes.

'No,' Anne replied simply and squeezed her friend's hands. 'I will not put your health at risk my friend. Besides I'll be back tomorrow and there will be nothing to worry about.' Anne wasn't sure whether she said this only to appease Constance's worry or her own. No matter what, she wasn't looking forward to this trip and was lamenting the lack of her musketeers.

* * *

The musketeers woke relatively early but once again didn't make their way down for breakfast too early, instead deciding to pack so they could make a quick exit after breakfast. Aramis found himself feeling rather fidgety and restless but could not find a reason.

'You alright,' Porthos asked the marksman.

'Yeah,' Aramis sighed, but saw the look his friend gave him suggesting his answer wouldn't suffice. 'I dunno. Something just doesn't feel right.'

Porthos studied his friend closely. All of them on occasion had felt this way and more often than not something concerning had followed. Sometimes it was injuries to each other and sometimes it was general attacks on musketeers, their captain or the royals themselves.

'Let's just be on our guard then,' Porthos said, indicating that he believed his friend wasn't being paranoid. Aramis was grateful for his words and continued to pack but still couldn't shake the feeling nagging away at him.

* * *

Before long Queen Anne was standing on the steps of the Louvre, resplendent in a gold gown, waiting for Louis to see her off. She was beginning to wonder if Louis would be bothered to turn up at all when he appeared smiling. She tried to return his smile but the effort was only half-hearted.

'Do you have everything you need my dear?' he asked.

'Yes, I believe so. The documents are stashed in the hidden compartment under the seat,' she replied.

'I am sure the Duke of Mayenne will be charmed by you my dear. How could he not be?' Anne offered a weak smile while Louis kissed her forehead.

Anne turned to the carriage where Lady Sarah was already waiting. Constance was still hanging around just in case Anne changed her mind but Anne wasn't going to.

Treville helped her into the carriage and turned as Louis called to him, 'You will make sure she is safe Treville.'

Treville secretly shirked at the loss of his former title, 'Of course, Your Majesty,' he bowed and quickly mounted his horse and the procession proceeded through the palace gates.

* * *

The musketeers ate their breakfast quickly and were somewhat happy that Fortier had yet to join them. It wasn't because they didn't want the Comte there, more that they knew they would be leaving many hours later if he was. As they finished their food they thanked Sophie for all her work asked her to send their compliments to the kitchen staff and made their way to their rooms to finalise packing and preparing the horses.

To their surprise they found Dubois, Bouchard, Herbert and Jacques having already started preparing their horses for the journey and soon the horses were all prepared and the musketeers were ready to go.

'Herbert, how are you feeling,' Aramis asked.

'Much better now, thanks to you Monsieur Aramis and Dr. Allard,' Herbert smiled in reply.

'Well I'm glad,' Aramis smiled back. The musketeers lead their horses from the stables to the gate of Fortier's estate.

'You weren't going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?' suddenly came Fortier's booming voice and the musketeers all turned to look at him.

'Of course not,' replied Athos. 'We just wanted to make sure we had everything ready. We have taken up too much of your time already.'

'As I told you, it has been a pleasure to have you here.'

'And we are overwhelmed by your generous hospitality,' Athos bowed slightly and the others followed. Fortier seemed to blush slightly at the compliment.

'Well, all of you are welcome here again. Even if you're just passing by, we would all be happy to see you. Also if you need somewhere to stay for the night on a journey or fancy spending some time away from Paris, we would be more than happy to accommodate you,' Fortier opened his arms welcomingly and before they knew it he had enveloped Athos in a hug. The swordsman was slightly stunned at the turn of events but hugged back as he didn't want to appear rude. D'Artagnan was next followed by Aramis and Porthos, whose massive wingspan made Fortier look small.

The musketeers mounted their horses and gave a nod towards Fortier as they turned to leave.

'Just one moment,' Fortier called and the musketeers turned to look back at him. 'I wish for you to have this,' he held out an object that was obviously a filled money purse to Athos.

'You know that we cannot accept that,' Athos stated.

'I thought you might say that. Please take it. I have money and I'm sure you all have very little. Use it as you see fit. It may at least help buy you some descent meals on your travels back or a better wine.' Fortier looked imploringly at each of the musketeers and it was Porthos who cracked first.

'You've been so kind-,' he began his voice starting to crack with emotion.

'Then let me do this one last favour for you all,' Fortier smiled. His glare was friendly yet there was air of authority about it. A look Athos used so well.

Fortier watched as the musketeers commenced their silent communication with mainly looks and shrugs. He could tell they were having a complete conversation in front of him but he had no idea what they saying.

In the end Aramis outstretched his hand to take the purse.

'We thank you for everything and will not let your gift go to waste,' he said with a charming smile. Fortier briefly revelled in his victory and yet felt sad that these men were leaving. They had made quite an impression on him.

The musketeers finally turned to leave and raised their hands in farewell and then urged their horses away from the Comte de Fortier's estate, although they would never admit it, with slight tears of affection in their eyes for a man that had treated them like family.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm interested as to whether you liked Fortier or not as this is the last we will see of him I'm afraid. I know I certainly enjoyed writing a different kind of noble. :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hi. We're taking a bit of time with Rochefort and Renard today. I'm interested about what you think of Renard. Is he just doing this because Rochefort has promised him what he wants? Or is he just a horrible man who is also relishing this?**

 **I have written this slightly quickly so I apologise for any mistakes.**

 **Also for any Merlin fans out there I'm currently trying my hand at a Merlin/Musketeers crossover, called When a Friend Calls. (Ok. Advertising doesn't hurt right?) ;)**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

Renard and Rochefort made their way down the road the royal procession would use and arrived an hour before noon at the wood in La Queue-les-Yvelines. Renard looked around analysing the area to find the perfect site for an ambush. So far he had seen areas that would be ok but he was not yet convinced that an ambush would be successful against musketeers.. After all, last time he thought he'd found a decent spot only for four musketeers to take out eight of his ten men. Rochefort watched Renard warily and could see that the man wasn't convinced that they had found a good ambush spot.

They travelled further down the road in silence until Renard's face broke into a smile. They had found the right spot. Rochefort anxiously waited for the man to speak.

Finally Renard turned to Rochefort and spoke, 'Here is a good place for an ambush. The road is wider here but the trees are closer to the road givin' cover,' he explained. 'Also, with the carriage travelling back the way we came, it will be on a slight incline meaning the carriage and procession will be slower and they will be exposed for longer.'

'You believe this will work?' Rochefort asked with a hint of hesitation and hope.

'Yes. I believe it will.' At Renard's words Rochefort felt himself relax as he didn't need to convince Renard anymore, at least about the ambush.

'Where is this building you wanted to show me?' Renard asked as he started to move his horse once more, making it clear that the deal was not yet done.

'It is only about a mile further,' replied Rochefort as he kicked his horse onwards.

* * *

Anne stared out of the window of the carriage as boredom was rapidly catching up with her. The constant bump of the carriage was also testing her patience and making her feel slightly sick. Lady Sarah hadn't proved to be the best companion as all the woman would talk about was court gossip and it was becoming infuriating. Anne was starting to miss Constance.

'Captain,' she called.

'Yes, Your Majesty,' answered Treville as he moved his horse alongside the carriage.

'Could we stop for a moment? I could do with stretching my legs.'

'Let's stop for a moment,' Treville called and slowly the carriage came to a stop. Eager to get out Anne opened the door herself and quickly Treville appeared to help her out. Her legs felt slightly weak from being in the same position for so long but soon she found her balance and examined her surroundings.

She could see the La Queue-les-Yvelines wood ahead and knew that it would be dangerous territory. Treville seeing her apprehension said, 'Don't worry Your Majesty we will travel through the wood without stopping and should hopefully have no trouble. My men will be on alert at all times.'

Anne smiled weakly back at him, 'I know that. But still, I have had a bad feeling about this trip since I knew I would be travelling.' Anne stood in the light breeze for a few minutes before she made her way back to the carriage as she wished to get to Dreux as quickly as possible. Treville would never admit it to the queen, but he too had bad feelings about this trip.

'Let's get going,' he announced and the procession started on its way again.

* * *

Rochefort and Renard arrived at the old stone shack relatively quickly and from the outside it looked run-down and not a good place to hold hostages. The shack was set back from the road and was placed atop a small incline which was enough to hide the lower tier from the road. The path towards the shack was narrow but the horses negotiated it with ease.

Rochefort saw Renard's unease and swiftly tried to ease the man's concerns, 'Wait until you see inside. I assure you it is a good place to hold hostages and it has a hidden exit.' Renard merely shrugged at Rochefort as he dismounted his horse.

Rochefort opened the wooden door that had clearly been whethered by storms and it creaked on its hinges. The damp smell hit them hard but they knew that this was merely a symptom of an abandoned structure left to rot. Rochefort led Renard through the hallway before stopping at a door on his left. This door was metal, and although rusted, was clearly still strong. It was lockable from the outside and a small window with bars was located just in line with Rochefort's head. Clearly this room had been used to hold prisoners before.

Rochefort turned to Renard to judge the man's expression. Renard's doubtful look had turned to curiosity and Rochefort could begin to hope that Renard would now be convinced. Rochefort opened the door to find two moth-eaten mattresses and two sets of manacles attached to the wall. The room contained a small window that was not big enough for anyone to fit through, except maybe a small child, yet the room seemed light enough anyway. Renard moved to check the manacles and found that they were far newer than the door and were in good condition.

'You won't be using those Renard,' Rochefort quietly warned. Renard looked to Rochefort in confusion so Rochefort clarified, 'Her Majesty is not to be harmed remember.' Renard slumped and lightly threw the manacles against the wall. 'Although,' Rochefort started, 'Treville is accompanying Her Majesty and it may be wise to restrain him,' Rochefort finished with a sly smile.

'You said nothin' about another prisoner,' Renard stated angrily.

'Forgive me. I thought I had mentioned that the former Captain Treville of the Musketeers will be accompanying Her Majesty on this trip. I must admit that I would like Treville to be alive to see the disgrace of his regiment'

'So now you want us to take the queen and this captain hostage? That was not agreed Rochefort!'

'Surely two hostages is not beyond you?' Rochefort sneered back.

'Hmm. Anything else I ought to know?' Renard spat.

'Her Majesty will be accompanied by one of her ladies. Most likely Madame Bonacieux-'

'You want us to spare the woman as well?' Renard interrupted.

'Oh no,' Rochefort staed simply, 'I want you to kill the woman,' he finished with an evil grin. 'Is that a problem for you?'

'No. No problem. People can't be irritating when they're dead.'

'Oh, and one more thing. The carriage must remain untouched and your men must guard it. It will contain rather important papers that cannot be lost.'

'I'm not bothered about the carriage!' Renard thundered and he moved within an inch of Rochefort's face.

Rochefort took a step back, 'But I am. Your men can easily hide in the trees and when the rescue party arrives, they can disappear as nobody will be looking in that direction,' Rochefort said matter-of-factly.

'Alright, but show me this secret exit. It better be as good as you say.'

Rochefort moved swiftly down the hall and then transcended a few steps before reaching a wooden door. Once through the door he walked into the cellar which was even damper than the rest of the shack. A sliver light allowed them to see in the gloom but Rochefort had seen the lamp and quickly used flints to light it.

'Looks like a dead-end to me,' Renard announced but Rochefort smiled.

'That is generally the point.' Rochefort said with his voice laced with sarcasm. He moved over to the far wall and ran his hand across the stone rocks. He stopped when he felt the shape was searching for, a star.

'Come here and feel this,' Rochefort looked up at Renard as the man moved forward carefully and placed his hand where Rochefort had done previously.

'A star.'

'Push it,' Rochefort said simply. Renard pushed the block and suddenly the disguised door opened a fraction and Rochefort moved to push it open further. On the other side of the door was a passage dug into the earth.

'Shall we?' Rochefort led the way with the lamp and Renard stared in wonder at the tunnel dug into the earth. They travelled for about half a mile as the tunnel twisted and turned before it finally began to rise. At the end was a metal trap-door and Rochefort calmly tried to open it but couldn't manage it by himself. Renard began to help and they slowly began to make progress. Soon the door was open to reveal the wood all around the small clearing where the door opened.

'It's been a while since someone used it. The soil was heavy on top, that made it difficult to open,' Renard said, stating the obvious to Rochefort who bit his tongue to stop the sneering reply that threatened to come out of his mouth.

'You can tether some horses here and anyone coming after you on foot will not stand a chance,' Rochefort declared.

'You're right. It's a good getaway. Lots of cover as well.'

'Do I understand, that we have a deal?' Rochefort extended his hand and Renard shook it.

'Let's go back through the trees though. I don't fancy going down there more than I have to,' Renard gave a weak smile and Rochefort had to agree with him. Neither man was truly sure of the way back, but neither wanted to go through the tunnel again, so they set off, in what they surmised to be, the right direction.

* * *

Treville was anxious as they entered the wood as there were many points where an ambush could easily take place. Unfortunately, with the carriage, no other route had been available. Treville had told his men to be on guard at all times but for the second time in a couple of days, Treville regretted the absence of the inseparables. All four had an uncanny ability to spot danger as quickly as possible. Aramis' aim meant that any attackers would be reduced in number quickly and Treville had seen Porthos and Athos give their own pistols to the man in recognition of his skill. Porthos would charge into a fight and scare the living daylights out any man that wasn't a soldier. Come to think of it, he would scare many soldiers as well. Athos and D'Artagnan would cut down any amateur opponents easily and professionals would only take slightly longer.

Treville sighed as looked around, while he could hear birds singing in the trees, he was happy.

* * *

Rochefort and Renard finally emerged from the trees only a little away from the shack. This surprised both men but they were grateful as they made their way to the horses. Suddenly both men heard commotion on the road ducked behind the slight incline. It was the royal carriage.

'That's the carriage,' Rochefort stated quietly and Renard tried to remember the features. 'That is Treville,' Rochefort said, indicating the man.

'S'pose you want him unhurt as well?' Renard questioned.

'Just don't seriously injure him,' Rochefort's lips turned upwards in a devilish grin.

'So queen unharmed and we can bash Treville about a bit,' Renard said looking to Rochefort for confirmation.

'Yes. But don't forget to have one musketeer alive to send word of the kidnapping,' Rochefort warned.

'Good point. Why don't we just send Treville back?'

'No!' Rochefort said sharply. 'Treville will be able to argue the case for the musketeers to be part of the rescue. That mustn't happen.'

Renard held his hands up in surrender as the royal party finally passed by.

'Right I must return to Paris. Here are the names of your brother's men that still reside in the Châtelet. Ask for their release and I will see to it. Are sure you understand everything?' Rochefort asked with some anxiety.

'Got it. We'll leave the secret door open and I'll have men tether horses at the other end. After the initial ambush I'll send any extra men away. And yes, I know the queen must not be harmed and I will keep the precious carriage under watch.

'Will you find the men the duke has sent?'

'Shouldn't be too hard,' Renard shrugged. 'The wood isn't that big.'

Rochefort and Renard shook hands once more and the Comte mounted his horse. Quietly Rochefort made his way onto the road, checking that the royal party wouldn't be able to see him. They had rounded the corner and were out of sight. Rochefort nodded to Renard and set off towards Paris. Renard knew he would have a few hours to wait before he could go looking for his men.


	15. Chapter 15

**This is the longest chapter so far. I wanted to get the story moving a bit as it has been moving rather slowly. I also got a bit carried away. :)**

 **I'm sure there are many mistakes because of the length but all are mine. I hope you enjoy it. :)**

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

Queen Anne remained tense for the rest of the journey but the royal procession successfully reached Dreux without any problems. Anne was relieved to finally be at her destination just as night fell. The Dreux estate had originally belonged to a duke who had been disgraced and stripped of his title, therefore leaving the estate to the crown. It was maintained with skeleton staff throughout the year and was often a good meeting place that meant dignitaries did not have to travel into Paris itself and negotiations could be kept private.

Anne sighed as she stepped out of the carriage with the help of Captain Treville. Clearly the Duke of Mayenne had already arrived and would no doubt make it clear that he had been waiting. Anne readied herself and entered the house through the main door followed by Treville, Lady Sarah and the remaining musketeers.

Anne entered the drawing room to find the Duke of Mayenne already there. He was thin with shoulder length greying hair and a greying beard. He turned to look at the queen and bowed, then looked around as if expecting someone else.

'His Majesty was unfortunately waylaid with state business,' Anne stated confidently, answering the duke's look around the room.

The duke smiled slightly and sighed knowingly, 'Was he now?' he said sarcastically under his breath to non-one in particular. 'Ah, Captain Treville!' he said finally acknowledging the man's presence. 'It's been a while,' he said with a sincere smile and offered his hand.

'It has indeed sir,' Treville replied with a smile and shook the duke's hand. 'Must have been at least five years.'

'Really that long? Would you like some whiskey?' the duke asked Treville who nodded gratefully and the duke poured a generous measure before passing the glass to Treville. 'Forgive me Your Majesty,' the duke finally remembering Anne's presence, 'I don't suppose you drink whiskey. Would you like some wine instead?'

'I don't drink whiskey often, but after that carriage ride I think I may need it,' Anne replied with sincere exhaustion.

'Excellent,' the duke quickly produced an extra glass and poured a rather smaller amount of whiskey into Anne's glass, who took it gratefully and sipped the amber liquid. 'I like a woman who drinks whiskey,' the duke said with a glint in his eye.

Anne sat in a chair near the fire taking small sips of the whiskey as Treville manoeuvred a chair next to her's and the duke sat in the chair he occupied earlier.

Anne broke the silence, 'Do you wish to do the reading and signing tonight or tomorrow morning?' she asked the duke.

'As much as the hospitality here is adequate, I would rather return home as soon as possible tomorrow morning,' he said pompously. Anne could hear the underlying patronising tone in his voice but couldn't' help but agree with him, as she wanted to get back to Paris as soon as possible.

Treville produced the box that contained the papers and handed it to the duke who proceeded to read the documents. Treville and the duke were discussing the agreement but Anne found she wasn't paying attention, after all Treville had good rapport with the duke and could deal with most things. Anne stared into the fire as she became lost in her thoughts, mainly about her son, Louis and Aramis.

Anne was startled when the duke clicked his fingers and ordered for an inkwell and quill to be brought.

'You are happy with terms?' Anne asked and the duke nodded as the quill and ink were laid before him and he quickly signed the papers and downed the rest of his whiskey.

The duke rose from his chair and turned to Anne, 'Forgive me Your Majesty, it has been a long journey here and it will be a long journey back. I feel I must get some rest so I bid you goodnight,' he bowed and left Treville and Anne alone in the room.

'Well that was relatively painless,' Treville commented as he downed the rest of his whiskey.

'Did he have any complaints?' Anne asked.

'No. I think he just wants to return home.'

Anne finished her whiskey and was led to her room for the night.

* * *

Rochefort returned late to the palace but had a spring in his tired step. Renard had agreed to his plan and soon Anne would be grateful to him for coming to her rescue.

Rochefort rounded the corner, and to his surprise, found Madame Bonacieux before him.

'What are you doing here?' he asked in surprise. Constance returned the look of surprise and said nothing.

'Forgive me,' Rochefort started, 'I had thought that you would have accompanied Her Majesty to Dreux,' he recovered.

'I would have gone,' Constance told him with an obvious croak in her voice, 'but I have been unwell and Her Majesty asked me to stay behind to recover.'

'Well of course. It is important to rest and recover to be able to do you duties to the highest standard. Who is accompanying Her Majesty?'

'Lady Sarah.'

'I wish you well with your recovery Madame Boncieux,' Rochefort said as he quickly made an exit. His plan wasn't going quite as well as he had hoped. No matter. The removal of Madame Bonacieux would have been a bonus but the main goal of his plan was intact. Unfortunately for Lady Sarah, she would just be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

* * *

The musketeers had a quiet day travelling back to Paris. They could take a quicker route without the cart and had made good time in the nice weather. As dusk started to approach they made their way into a small town and spotted a tavern. Two stable boys came out to take their horses but their smiles dropped at seeing the musketeers.

The musketeers looked around and could see many faces staring back at them from doorways and windows. The looks were mostly of fear but a lot resembled anger.

The tavern door burst open and the roar of many voices greeted the musketeers. Five unarmed men made for the foursome who reacted instantly. Not wanting to seriously hurt or kill the men, the musketeers left their weapons alone and decided to engage in hand to hand combat.

D'Artagnan was reached first and dodged the man's fist which was thrown in obvious anger. D'Artagnan continued to stave off blows but the man was large and strong and soon connected with the Gascon's left eye. D'Artagnan fell to the ground but although dazed, he managed to swipe the man's feet from beneath him and sent the man crashing face first to the floor. Quickly the Gascon sat on the man's back and quickly undid one of his belts to tie the man's hands behind his back.

Aramis was next and managed to deflect what would have been a crushing blow had it made contact. The man was roughly the same size as Aramis and the marksman quickly outmanoeuvred him but another man caught Aramis from behind and his original attacker kicked Aramis hard in the stomach, causing him to yell with pain and buckle slightly.

The man made to punch Aramis but his fist was suddenly enveloped by a much larger hand. Porthos squeezed hard and the man cried out in pain as his hand was crushed. The man holding Aramis was momentarily distracted and Aramis elbowed him hard in the stomach. The man was now on all fours gasping for air. Aramis himself was still suffering from the kick he had received but the marksman was too quick for his opponent as he knocked the man onto his back and quickly sat on his legs, preventing the man from kicking. Aramis had the man's right hand trapped by his left foot and the man's left arm was being held By Aramis' right. Aramis reached behind him and drew his dagger which he then held calmly at the man's throat and the man stopped moving.

Porthos had seen the trouble Aramis was in and stepped in to stop the man from punching his friend. Porthos' grip was by far the strongest and he applied the pressure instantly, successfully breaking the man's hand. Another man then jumped on Porthos' back but he didn't stay there for long as Porthos turned quickly loosening the man's grip and swinging the man wildly. Porthos reached behind him and pulled the man in front of his face and growled deeply, taking satisfaction as the man's eyes widened considerably. The man with the broken hand was angered and charged towards the large musketeer but soon Porthos had them both in head locks underneath his large arms.

Athos was soon fighting his own man but it was clear that Athos was the better fighter. However, Athos missed with a left jab leaving him slightly exposed and his opponent tried to take advantage of it. The man threw a punch but instead of hitting Athos' jaw like he planned, the man hit Athos neck causing the musketeer to struggle for breath slightly and feeling a little dazed. The man tried to punch Athos in the gut but found himself blocked and thrown to the floor. Athos placed his left foot on the man's back and reached for his pistol. Athos fired a shot into the air and silence fell.

'Enough!' roared the swordsman. 'We are not your enemy. What is the meaning of this attack?' Athos glared around him and saw many avert their eyes.

'You're soldiers,' a young man, no older than D'Artagnan, piped up. Athos looked at the man but didn't say anything. 'Last time soldiers came, they took all our money. Many of our precious things they took. They attacked us and were vicious an' all,' the man continued. 'They said they'd be back to collect more taxes.'

'We are not those soldiers,' Athos said calmly. Finally lifting his boot from his attacker's back. The other musketeers followed suit in releasing their attackers. 'Do you know what regiment they were from?'

'No,' the man shook his head.

'What colour were their uniforms?' Aramis asked calmly.

'Red.'

'Red Guard,' muttered Porthos angrily. 'Rochefort's behind this.'

'We are King's Musketeers,' Athos stated looking around to everyone. A murmur passed through the crowd. 'I'm afraid there is not much we can do about the collection of taxes, however we will mention the unfairness you have faced at the hands of the Red Guard.'

The man who attacked Aramis spoke up, 'We've committed treason for attacking musketeers. We will all die now,' he said shamefully.

'Not if we leave now with no further violence. I give you my word,' Athos said with conviction.

'How do we know you won't betray us?'

'I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that,' Athos put his icy glare to good use. The stable boys had returned with the musketeer's horses and soon they were mounted and ready to go. With a final nod to the people, the musketeers rode away protecting their various injuries.

* * *

Anne was restless and couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned but couldn't find a comfortable position. She had thought that once the duke had agreed terms she would feel better. If anything she felt worse. This whole trip had left her uneasy and now she wished to be in the Louvre holding her son and kissing him goodnight. She missed him greatly. She turned her face into the pillow and wept.

* * *

The musketeers finally arrived at a clearing that would allow them to camp for the night and made sure they were a long way away from the town. All were weary from their fight and the lateness of the hour. D'Artagnan's eye was starting to bruise, much to Porthos' amusement.

'Yer gonna have a right shiner there,' the big man laughed while D'Artagnan scowled. Aramis winced slightly as he laughed. He was pretty sure that at least one of his ribs was bruised and he looked up to see Athos staring at him. Luckily the swordsman said nothing as they set up camp. Porthos soon had a fire going and the musketeers were glad of the food that Sophie had insisted they take before they left Fortier's estate. They ate their ham, cheese and bread in relative silence.

Athos was struggling to swallow as his throat had started to swell and this hadn't gone unnoticed by Aramis who decided to check Athos over and came to the conclusion that Athos needed a cold press and quickly dashed off to the nearby stream to wet a bandage. Aramis returned with one for D'Artagnan as well, whose eye had swollen and had a red rim around it and by morning it would be purple. After enduring Aramis' fussing Athos finally pointed out that Aramis needed checking too and Porthos' shook his head at Aramis hiding his own injury and putting everyone else before himself.

Aramis removed his doublet and lifted his shirt to show a red/purple boot mark over his ribs.

'I've just bruised my ribs. I'll be fine,' he said. 'I'm more worried about Athos and D'Artagnan.'

'How come Porthos didn't get hurt?' D'Artagnan whined while pressing the cold bandage against his face.

'Talent,' was the big man's simple reply before he laughed his booming laugh at his three sulking brothers.

The men sat quietly round the fire for a while as they let their food digest. The stars were bright in the sky, as was the moon although it was only half full. Soon D'Artagnan started to yawn and his eye was looking rather puffy.

'Aramis and I will take the first watch,' Athos declared. 'You two get some sleep.' Porthos and D'Artagnan quickly moved to their bedrolls and bade their brothers' goodnight.

Aramis and Athos sat in silence for a while and then listened to their brothers' snoring as both were now sound asleep.

'What's wrong,' Athos asked his friend but Aramis didn't seem to hear him. 'Aramis?' Athos tried again.

Aramis jerked at his name, 'I'm sorry. What did you say?'

'I asked what was wrong. You've been distracted all day.'

'Oh. Nothing.' Aramis looked up to see Athos looking directly at him and knew that his friend hadn't believed him. Aramis didn't think he'd been acting differently but Porthos had noticed this morning.

'I just have a bad feeling,' he said. 'I can't explain it. I don't think we're in danger so I'm a bit confused.' Athos knew Aramis's senses were often correct, in fact all of them had their moments, but there was something else troubling Athos.

'Aramis, you haven't been yourself since the Dauphin was born,' Athos shot a look over to his brothers to check they were still sleeping.

'He's my son Athos and I can't see him.' Aramis started running fingers through his hair as he often did when feeling emotional.

'We've been through this. He is not your son. He is the king's son and that is all he will ever be.' Athos could now see that Aramis' eyes were starting to glisten as he couldn't stop the tears that were surely to follow. Athos moved from where he was sitting to sit next Aramis, again checking that the other two were asleep. Athos encircled Aramis with his left arm and pulled the now silently sobbing marksman's head onto his shoulder and started running his right hand through Aramis' hair.

'I can't even begin to understand what you're going through. I know that the temptation must be strong but you also know that suspicions will be raised if you are constantly found around the Dauphin's rooms.' Athos felt Aramis nod into his shoulder but the man continued to sob.

'I wish I could comfort you more,' Athos felt Aramis now shuddering against him and continued to run his fingers through Aramis' hair.

'I've made such a mess of things,' Aramis pulled away from Athos' shoulder so he could look his brother in the eye.

'Aramis, why couldn't control yourself that night?' Athos saw the guilt radiating through his brother's eyes and Aramis made to pull away further but Athos kept his grip and Aramis finally rested his head against Athos' shoulder again.

Athos thought Aramis wasn't going to answer but the man surprised him by asking, 'Did I tell you about Isabelle?'

'The nun? You said you'd known her before you left for Paris. That you were due to marry but she disappeared and apparently went to that convent.'

'So I didn't tell you the reason why we were to marry was because she was pregnant?' Aramis looked up at Athos who shook his head. 'I told Anne that,' the marksman mumbled. 'She lost the child and I never saw her again, until the convent. I loved her Athos. Truly. Then she told me how we wouldn't have been happy but I always believed we would have been. Maybe she was right, I wouldn't have been a good father,' he finished with bitterness in his voice.

'Aramis look at me,' Athos ordered and the marksman complied. 'I truly believe you would be a great father.' Athos saw the merest hint of a smile cross his brother's face before Aramis placed his head on Athos shoulder again. Athos could still hear Porthos and D'Artagnan snoring but still stole a glance to check they were asleep.

'I was grieving. I was vulnerable,' Aramis admitted with shame in his voice. 'I had noticed how Anne,' Athos noticed Aramis using the queen's name, 'was beautiful before but after the Bastille I learned how kind she was. She shouldn't have cared. I was only a soldier.' Aramis looked up to Athos with confusion in his eyes.

'Aramis, you do realise that practically every woman you come across fancies you right?'

'If you say so.' Aramis returned again to Athos shoulder and Athos pulled him even closer.

'She never once panicked at our situation. She has such courage. I'll admit I was attracted to her but I never thought anything would happen. I had told her about Isabelle.' Sensing Athos uneasy movement Aramis turned to look at him and clarified, 'She asked me straight out and I couldn't hide it.'

'Well you couldn't lie to the queen,' Athos agreed.

'She was just there. Suddenly talking about the child she had lost. How she never forgot it and how Isabelle wouldn't too. I never have. I told her about what Isabelle had said and before I knew it she was kneeling in front of me. Her hand was on my arm and she was looking directly at me. I tried not to look at her, but when I did I could see her kindness shining through. She really cared.' Athos held Aramis even tighter and rested his cheek on Aramis' head. 'She kissed me first and I was shocked but I wanted her. At that point she wasn't the queen. She was truly Anne and she was beautiful. I kissed her and she didn't pull away. I knew it was wrong but so did she. I didn't care. I love her, Athos.'

'Of all the women who willing fall at your feet, you have to love the queen,' Athos sighed and could feel the small chuckle from Aramis.

'But I'm sorry, my brother,' Aramis suddenly broke Athos grip and pulled away. Shame and guilt was clear on his face. 'I have placed a terrible burden on you and you may yet be executed for treason. I am sorry. I don't know why you put up with me. I'm nothing but trouble.'

'Aramis. Aramis,' Athos called to stop the man's rambling. Athos turned to Porthos and D'Artagnan but both were still sleeping.

'Aramis look at me,' Athos called as he knelt before his friend. Once he had Aramis attention he continued, 'I would travel through the seven leagues of hell and back for you. You know that don't you?' Aramis nodded numbly before replying quietly, 'As I would for you.'

'Only three people know what happened that night. Neither of us will tell and I'm pretty damn sure the queen won't tell either.' Athos pulled Aramis closely to his chest and finally felt the marksman relax in his arms. Aramis was again sobbing quietly while Athos ran his fingers through his brother's hair. 'You will never be a burden to me.'

Aramis quietly mumbled, 'Thank you brother.'


	16. Chapter 16

**Hello, just a warning that there are scenes of violence and descriptions of corpses. I don't think it is too graphic but please be aware. :)**

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

Porthos was sat near the fire and skinning the rabbit that had been caught in one of D'Artagnan's traps. The Gascon had quite a talent for animal traps and regularly caught food for his brothers. D'Artagnan was pressing a cold bandage to his eye but thankfully the swelling had started to go down and he could see through it again. It was however a bright shade of purple and Porthos had to restrain himself from laughing as the younger man was somewhat feeling sorry for himself.

Porthos main worry was Aramis. He had sensed a while ago that there was something different about the marksman and that Athos knew about it but he and D'Artagnan didn't. It wasn't obvious all of the time but Aramis had somewhat withdrawn into himself and was no longer the flirtatious man Porthos knew. It had happened around the same time as Aramis had found out about Adèle's death but if it was about Adèle then Porthos was sure Aramis would have spoken to him. This was clearly something that only Athos knew and Porthos could only surmise that his brother's silence was to protect him and D'Artagnan. This only worried Porthos more.

He placed the now skinned rabbit over the fire to cook and looked to his sleeping brothers. Aramis had managed to move from his own bedroll in the night and was now resting his head on Athos' right shoulder and his right hand was gripping Athos' shirt. Aramis right leg was intertwined with Athos' right leg and Athos had his right arm around the marksman's shoulders. In the middle of the night Porthos had taken Aramis' discarded blanket and draped it over the two men and honestly they looked rather comfy but Porthos knew a clingy Aramis meant he was in some distress.

'You know, I'm always surprised Athos allows Aramis to do that,' D'Artagnan interrupted Porthos' thoughts. 'He never seems the type.'

'Athos has a heart,' Porthos replied, 'but he only lets certain people see it. Destroys his reputation otherwise,' he added with a wink while D'Artagnan grinned.

Athos started to stir and woke to find a rather heavy weight on his right shoulder. He glanced down to see Aramis fast asleep and couldn't help but run his fingers through the marksman's hair, trying to wake him softly. Aramis responded by turning his face closer to Athos' shoulder and murmuring slightly. Athos rolled his eyes and looked in the direction of the laughing he could hear. Porthos and D'Artagnan were both smiling and chuckling at the position he found himself in.

Athos lay his head back and looked towards the sky. It was mainly blue but some white fluffy clouds were visible. He shook his head slightly and a small smile appeared on his face as he realised that he would never had envisaged this situation when he was the Comte de la Fère. In fact he had been raised to see this kind of emotion as a weakness and yet he found comfort in comforting his brothers. Allowing emotion to show was difficult for soldiers and time again Aramis and Porthos, and now D'Artagnan, had allowed Athos to see them at their weakest as had he in return. It was a form of trust and a bond that linked them all together.

'Aramis,' Athos called as the marksman struggled to wake, 'Aramis, it is morning,' Athos gently ran his fingers through Aramis' hair as the marksman's brown eyes finally opened.

Aramis looked up at Athos with slight confusion as he registered his sleeping arrangement with a slightly embarrassed grin crossed his face.

'Morning,' the marksman said quietly.

'Morning,' Athos replied.

'Have I ever told you that you make a very comfortable pillow?' Aramis asked with a hint of knowing amusement in his voice.

'Only every time you wake up on top of me,' Athos deadpanned back causing Aramis to chuckle as he finally sat up, allowing Athos to finally move.

Porthos watched his brothers with fondness. He never liked his head resting on someone else, it wasn't him. The only time it happened was when he was unconscious from injury. He much preferred to be the comforter and on many occasions when he needed comfort he would kindly invite Aramis or Athos to fall asleep on his shoulder or chest, well most of the time he didn't have to ask, they already knew. Porthos always felt better when he knew his brothers were close. He returned his attention to cooking the rabbit as Athos and Aramis started to walk over.

D'Artagnan watched as his friends made their way over to the fire. He wasn't sure how he felt at that moment. The thing he found hardest to understand with these men was their ability to show their weakness and comfort each other without shame. His father had taught him that men were strong and never showed weakness in emotions. 'Suck it up lad,' he used to say, 'Wailing and comfort is for women!' D'Artagnan had always thought that he needed to prove himself and that admitting pain in any sense was showing weakness and that had often led to him being less than honest about injuries and emotions. Over time the three men around him had shown him that trust was far stronger than pride and admitting when you need help was not a weakness. They were the strongest men he knew and yet there was a much softer side to all of them.

He had often been the recipient of comfort, especially Aramis who fussed like a mother hen when his brothers were injured, and had begun to really feel and enjoy the comfort, especially since his captivity with the king had caused him more injuries than he had originally been aware of. He still wasn't sure how he felt about giving comfort himself, in fact he had no idea how to go about it. He was aware that others knew how he felt and they would never push him to do something he felt uncomfortable with. However, he was starting to realise that he really did want to be included and that was confusing him.

D'Artagnan was brought out of his musings as his brothers sat by the fire.

'Nice sleep,' Porthos winked at Aramis.

'I always sleep well when I find a comfortable pillow,' Aramis retorted while Athos rolled his eyes and Porthos laughed.

'Why do you never use me as a pillow?' the childish question was out of D'Artagnan's mouth before he could stop it and he realised he had also spoken with a twinge of resentment. He chose to look at his boots rather than his brothers. The other musketeers exchanged looks at the Gascon's outburst. They had all known D'Artagnan's difficulty in accepting comfort but knew he was coming round to the idea and it heartened all of them. They had had six years for their bond to develop, D'Artagnan had only been around just over a year as a fully-fledged musketeer although he had been with them longer that.

'D'Artagnan?' the Gascon raised his head at the sound of Aramis' voice, 'Can I be honest?' D'Artagnan nodded and knew Aramis was going to say something about not wanting to make him uncomfortable. 'You're a bit…bony.'

'Wha…..' D'Artagnan couldn't help but smile as Porthos roared with laughter beside him and Athos snorted into his water. Aramis had a cheeky grin on his face.

'Honestly D'Artagnan, if you would like to be my pillow I'm more than happy to try you out. Just be warned, I wriggle…a lot,' Aramis was glad to see the young man now grinning broadly, unable to control his delight at being included.

'He's not joking mind. Can get a bit clingy,' Porthos smirked.

'Not to mention he's heavier than you think,' said Athos dryly.

'Porthos, I think you're burning the rabbit,' Aramis deflected the conversation easily and making it clear he was to be teased no more. 'I was going to ask how your eye was,' Aramis looked towards D'Artagnan, 'but I can clearly see the swelling has gone down and it is now a vibrant purple.'

'Yeah,' D'Artagnan muttered. Soon the rabbit was cooked and the musketeers ate heartily, discussing what might have been going on at the garrison in their absence.

'We could get back to Paris tonight after our detour from that town,' D'Artagnan said.

'True. But why hurry when we're not expected back until tomorrow,' Athos said simply.

Soon the musketeers were back on the road towards Paris but Aramis could still not shake the feeling of worry he'd had since yesterday.

* * *

Queen Anne rose early after a restless night and was quickly helped to wash and dress by Lady Sarah. All she wanted was to eat breakfast and leave as quickly as possible. It seemed the duke had the same idea as he was eating his breakfast as she entered to the room. He made to stand but Anne waved him to sit. Ceremony was hardly important at this point.

She sat and some strawberries and an apple was placed in front of her. She was asked if she wanted any porridge but she was about to politefully decline when she saw Tréville enter the room and realised she would need the energy for the trip back to Paris. Anne started to eat in silence, willing her stomach not to reject the food on her plate.

Soon they had finished breakfast and made their way out to the carriages where the duke bade the queen farewell, 'Goodbye, Your Majesty. I hope we meet again soon,' he kissed her outstretched hand.

'Goodbye, Monsieur,' she nodded as he turned to his carriage and she turned to hers. The carriages set off in opposite directions as both parties wished to return home as soon as possible.

* * *

During the night Renard had found the twenty men that the duke had sent and they were now primed in position for the ambush. They couldn't be sure when the royal carriage would arrive at this point but they had stationed a man further down the road on horseback hidden in the trees. The road was generally rather straight so they shouldn't be taken by surprise.

Renard could feel is heart-rate starting rise in anticipation. What they were about to do was treason of the highest regard but he knew he would get the reward he wanted. Aramis.

* * *

The royal procession continued for most of the day. The musketeers had decided to eat on horseback while Lady Sarah was eating next to Anne in the carriage. Anne couldn't bring herself to eat as her senses became heightened as they entered to wood in La Queue-les-Yvelines. This was the most dangerous part of the trip and everybody knew it.

'We'll pass through without stopping Your Majesty,' came Tréville's voice as if he had read her mind.

'That would be a great relief captain,' Anne replied with a sigh.

Tréville didn't want to admit it but he had the sense that they were being watched. As a soldier you learned to listen to your instincts and he could tell that tension was rife through his musketeers. The most uneasy thing was the general lack of noise coming from the forest. Yes, there were some birds singing but not many.

Soon the carriage started moving up a slight incline and the carriage horses had to shorten their steps and this slowed the carriage. Tréville's senses were heightened even more as the sound of birdsong had stopped completely.

'Joubert,' he whispered, 'Make sure you're on your guard.' Joubert nodded in agreement and all the musketeers were constantly looking around them. Anne was in the carriage and could sense the tension building and wanted to be free of this forest.

'AMBUSH!' shouted Joubert firing his pistol at one man who suddenly appeared from the trees on the right hitting him squarely in the chest and the man crumpled before him.

The carriage horses started to panic as shots could be heard from all directions and the driver was struggling to keep charge. Michel fell to the ground heavily clutching his shoulder which was now seeping red. Before he could move an attacker thrust his sword through Michel's chest and the musketeer lay unmoving. An attacker took the reins of the carriage horses and calmed them as best he could while another man shot the now begging driver dead without a second thought.

Boudain hit his target with his shot and the man crumpled before him but another man's shot grazed Boudain's neck and the sharp pain sent the musketeer reeling. He managed to keep his composure though and soon killed one more attacker with his sword before finally succumbing to the blood loss from his neck. The man that had shot him stood over the musketeer and delivered a blow to his head with the butt of a pistol. Boudain bleed freely onto the road.

A shot missed Duval's ear by mere inches and he quickly managed to dismount his horse. He fired his pistol and hit one man but the wound was not fatal. Another man roared at him from behind but Duval was too quick for him and the musketeer's sword penetrated the man's lower chest easily causing a large groan of pain. The man Duval had shot was making his way towards him but Duval unsheathed his dagger and threw it directly hitting his target who now lay dead on the ground.

Anne felt her heart start to race as the battle ensued all around them. The carriage had come to an uneasy stop but still swayed due to the distress of the horses. She was starting to feel very sick. Lady Sarah was holding on to Anne as if her life depended on it while Anne hoped and prayed the musketeers could save her again.

'Stay inside Anne,' Tréville said as he moved to help his men. Anne recognised that Tréville had used her name rather than her title just in case the men hadn't realised who they had attacked. It was unlikely but there wasn't much point in making it any easier for them.

Fabien had not been directly in line with the shots from the attackers and had been protected by then carriage. He moved unnoticed towards two men who had their backs to him and were now gloating over Michel's body. Anger flared in the musketeer and he thrust his sword through one man's back and as the other turned slit his throat. Unfortunately, Fabien hadn't seen Renard move silently behind him and Renard approached the musketeer from behind and deeply cut the musketeer's throat. Fabien tried to staunch the flow but realised his time was up but in a moment of defiance he plunged his dagger into Renard's left foot as he fell to the ground. Renard cursed loudly at the dagger now protruding from him foot. He steeled himself and pulled it free before kicking Fabien's corpse.

The battle had become a swordfight as pistols couldn't be reloaded in time. Duval dispatched another man with but was injured on his left leg hampering his movement. He critically injured another attacker but soon he felt his leg buckle and he was punched in the face and felt his cheekbone break. The man lifted him to his feet and thrust and sword through his stomach but while he still breathed Duval was dangerous. Unseen he had unsheathed the dagger at the man's back and returned the gesture. The shock on the man's face was evident and Duval smiled before his eyes closed forever.

Renard watched as his men were once again dispatched by the musketeers and was beginning to wonder if twenty men had been enough. He smiled as he saw four of the six musketeers dead on the ground but he had to admit that the musketeers were truly amazing fighters and had taken out many men.

Joubert fought two against one as he attacked and defended. He was happy now of that session he had taken part in with Athos and Aramis last month. Both men had pushed his boundaries and had made him realise that analysing an opponent's moves while keeping yourself safe was important. He saw his opening and sliced at the man's left leg catching the femoral artery, judging by the amount of blood the man was losing, and set himself for his next opponent. The man caught him on the waist but Joubert was countering well until a shot was heard and Joubert's left shoulder spiked with pain.

Tréville had managed to escape the barrage of bullets and found himself fighting two men at once. The men may be younger and quicker in their movement but Tréville was ready for them. The skill of the captain was a sight to behold as he matched the men blow for blow. He soon took his advantage and plunged his rapier through one man's chest and then turned his full attention to the other. The man was nervous and Tréville could feel the half-smile rising on his face. Tréville lunged for the attack and the man was too slow to counter. Tréville's rapier slicing it's way though the man's stomach up to his heart, effectively gutting him. The man gave a look of shock and desperation as his hands fumbled with the large gash through the centre of his body and his hands were now covered with blood. He looked helplessly to Tréville as he realised his fate.

'Leave that one!' roared Renard as Joubert now knelt on the ground clutching his bleeding shoulder with a man hovering over him. Tréville turned to see all of his musketeers but Joubert lying dead on the ground. He heard a pistol cock and saw it was aimed at his head.

* * *

On the way to Paris the musketeers were in good spirits but suddenly Aramis pulled on Fidget's reins causing the animal to whinny and stomp his hooves in protest. The others turned to their brother and could see that something was wrong. Aramis was now incredibly pale and his gaze was distant.

'Aramis?' Athos called and the marksman's face turned towards him.

'We need to get back to Paris as soon as possible,' Aramis replied. The other musketeer's knew that when any of them had a feeling about trouble they were usually right. All the musketeers exchanged glances and then hurried there horses forward as quickly as they dared, hoping to reach Paris as soon as they were able.


	17. Chapter 17

**The aftermath of the battle today. :) Just want to say a big thank you to everyone who continues to read the story. :)  
**

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Chapter Seventeen

Rochefort was pacing in his office. He knew for his plan to work they would most likely have already attacked the royal carriage and hopefully they had succeeded. He also knew that any news would still be hours away and that heightened his anxiety and excitement even more. He sat at his desk trying to distract himself but he could not erase his feelings. He was also worried that Renard would not keep his word and that his beloved Anne would be hurt. Maybe he shouldn't have left her with that thug. The thought angered him and he found his hands had made fists and his fingernails were close to penetrating the skin of his palms. He unclenched his fists slowly and tried to let the pent-up anger leave him. Renard knew the rules, he reminded himself. He was still in charge.

He leant back in his chair and closed his eyes. He could see it now, his brave rescue and Anne sobbing gratefully in his arms. All protocol forgotten and just raw emotion on show. He was there for her when no-one else was and she would be so very grateful. With her heightened emotions she was sure to profess her love for him and reward him as such. Rochefort smiled as he contemplated the outcome of his plan and was for the moment content.

* * *

Tréville turned to see the pistol aimed at his head.

'Drop your sword,' Renard announced gleefully and Tréville did as he was told. Joubert was trembling knelt on the ground, his shoulder wound was now bleeding profusely as he tried to stem the flow. Tréville moved towards his man but suddenly felt an object hit his back between his shoulder blades and he bent double as he gasped for air and his legs were then swiped out from underneath him, sending him crashing to the ground. As Tréville turned himself onto his back he found himself trapped by four swords.

'I never said move,' Renard sneered in victory and looked around to check his men. Eight were still alive but one had been critically injured by Duval and there would be no saving him. Renard indicated to one of his men to put the man out of his misery and the man complied. So seven men left not including himself. The wound Fabien had caused to his left foot was starting to throb very painfully and Renard cursed the musketeer as he made his way over to the carriage.

Anne could feel Lady Sarah trembling beside her as the sounds of the fight echoed in their ears. Anne closed her eyes as she did not wish to see the carnage wrought by the battle. Suddenly the sound of the fighting stopped but Anne heard an unfamiliar voice sneering in victory. The musketeers had lost.

She readied herself for what was to come. She was terrified but she would do her best not to show it and she would do her best to wear the mask that she had perfected over many years. She calmly relaxed Lady Sarah's grip and tried to give the woman a look of reassurance.

The carriage door opened and the man before her sneered, 'Your Majesty.' She could see the sword scar on his neck and knew this man was used to fighting. His eyes were cold and she repressed the shudder that wanted to flow through her body. He offered his hand to help her out of the carriage but she refused and made her way out by her own accord. She was determined to hold her head high and keep her composure. As she stepped out she saw the devastation around her. Bodies lying in pools of blood and she noticed four of her musketeers were dead but many more unidentified men also lay on the road. She swallowed harshly to try and stop the retching of her stomach which had suddenly been exacerbated by the smell of blood. One man looked as if had been gutted. Her eyes moved to Tréville who was pinned to the ground by four men's swords and the other musketeer, who she recalled was named Joubert, with two men standing over him. Joubert was knelt on the ground and Anne could see him clutching his shoulder that was bleeding rapidly and the musketeer was in obvious pain. The men who had attacked the convoy were looking rather pleased with themselves and Anne made sure she saw all their faces. She turned back to Renard who was grinning evilly and noticed the blood trail from his left foot. He was wounded.

Lady Sarah stepped out of the carriage but due to her fear her legs gave way and she ended up in a heap on the floor causing the men to laugh.

'Get up woman,' Renard said impatiently and grabbed Sarah's arm and pulled her to her feet. The woman looked harassed and fearful and was beginning to sob hysterically and Anne only hoped she didn't look the same. Right now she really missed her musketeers and was full of worry for her son that she may not see again.

* * *

Constance was sat in the Dauphin's chambers and was absent-mindedly playing with her hair. She would be much happier when Anne returned and she also knew the musketeers were due back tomorrow. No matter what she had said she cared for them, all of them. She loved D'Artagnan but she knew she had very little choice but to stay with her husband, well at least that's what she told herself, but she had also inherited the other musketeers when D'Artagnan had burst into her life. The other three were really very much like brothers, annoying brothers who easily found trouble.

Suddenly the Dauphin's crying filled the air and she quickly rushed over to his crib. She took him in her arms and tried to soothe him with very little success. Marguerite appeared and took the child from Constance and tried to soothe him herself. If anything, the child cried even more loudly. After a while Constance took the Dauphin back and tried to soothe him again, this time using the small bear that Aramis had asked her to give the child as a gift from the musketeers. Anne was aware of the gift even though the king wasn't. It was a small stuffed bear that was obviously not very expensive but was cute all the same. Anne had suggested that Louis would have it thrown out as it was not fit for a prince but Anne had made it clear that she wanted the bear kept and Constance had often seen her use to soothe her son.

Slowly the child calmed in Constance arms as he began to play with the bear's arms and legs. He started to gurgle happily at the toy and Constance breathed a sigh of relief. The Dauphin's eyes started to droop again and Constance placed him in his crib once more. She tried to take the bear from him but his grip in his sleep was strong. In the end she left the bear with him to let him sleep.

* * *

'I'll be honest captain, your men are really something,' Renard stated walking back towards Tréville and sending one of the men guarding Tréville to guard the queen. 'You've taken out thirteen of my men leaving only seven behind. That's quite an effort.'

'Clearly we…didn't take out enough,' Tréville gasped. Tréville was hauled to his feet by two men and he felt his legs shaking slightly. Renard suddenly punched Tréville in the stomach and the older man felt the air quickly leave his lungs as he bent double although his arms were being restrained. As he looked up another man had appeared, Boucher. Boucher punched Tréville hard in the face with his right hand making contact with Tréville's left jaw bone. Tréville could taste blood in his mouth where his cheek had made contact with his teeth.

Renard raised his hand to stop Boucher and then commented, 'Your musketeers have cost me twenty-one men in the last few days,' Renard watched as Tréville's face changed to confusion.

'Oh, you won't know of course,' Renard smiled mockingly.

Anne felt a shudder pass through her and hoped he hadn't meant her musketeers.

'Oi!' Simon shouted and everyone looked to see Lady Sarah running as fast as she could for the trees. A shot rang out and Anne's lady in waiting crumpled to the floor as the bullet hit her back.

'No!' Anne screamed and started to make her way towards Sarah but her path was blocked by Simon. 'She was innocent!' Anne's composure was completely lost and she no longer cared if anyone saw as she punched the man's chest rapidly and as hard as she could. He grabbed her wrists to make her stop and she felt the pain of his grip and finally stopped thrashing and he released his grip on her.

Tréville roared with fury and tried to disentangle himself from the men that held him but only received several punches in the stomach for his endeavours.

'You are a pathetic excuse for a man!' Tréville roared at Simon with fury in his eyes. Renard moved swiftly to Tréville and kicked his left knee causing the older man's leg to buckle and then Boucher lifted his foot and kicked Tréville hard in the chest. The captain was sent reeling and lay gasping on the floor as he felt one rib, possibly two, break.

'Leave him alone,' Anne's voice cut through the air with regal authority and she stood staring with disgust at the men before her. It was only for a moment but she saw the flicker of respect that had crossed the men's faces before they started to smile to mock her. It was small victory for Anne, but it was a victory none the less.

'As I was saying,' Renard started again, 'Your men cost me eight men a few days ago as well. They were accompanying a cart,' Tréville's heart sank as he realised this must have been the inseparables. Anne felt her worry heighten as she too knew her musketeers and been guarding a cart on the way to the Comte de Fortier's estate.

Renard bent down and moved closer to Tréville who was now sitting up on the ground, 'Eight men they cost me. Only one of them got a scratch in return. The mongrel,' he sneered angrily.

Tréville was angered by the man's description of Porthos but smiled back, 'Do you want me to say sorry?' he asked mockingly which led to slap across his face. Anne felt her nerves ebb slightly, they were alright. Aramis was alright.

Tréville was once again dragged to his feet and this time his hands were bound with rope. Renard walked over to Anne, he was limping more now as the pain of his wound started to truly register, and held out a piece of rope in front of her.

'Your Majesty,' he said. When Anne didn't move he said, 'I don't want to hurt you but I will have my men restrain you if need be.' Anne looked around to see two men approaching her and she looked instinctively to Tréville who gave a small nod.

Apprehensively she held out her hands and allowed Renard bind them. The rope was thin and she could already feel it grating against her skin but she was glad her hands weren't visibly shaking.

'Turn the cart around,' came Simon's voice and the horses were quickly unhitched and the carriage was turned by six men. Renard was stood next to the queen while Boucher was holding Tréville in a vice like grip. Joubert was now lying on the floor shuddering unattended. The cart horses were soon re-hitched and Renard was looking around for Joubert's horse.

Simon approached Joubert with a horse in tow, 'This one yours?' he asked and Joubert nodded while wincing with pain.

'Get him on the horse and tie him to it,' Renard said impatiently. 'We need him to get there alive.' Soon Joubert was tied to his horse to prevent him falling off and in many ways he was glad. He had lost a lot of blood and knew his wound would most likely prove fatal and he was already feeling the effects of the blood loss.

'Deliver this to the musketeer garrison so the king can be made aware of this situation,' Renard instructed holding out a sealed letter. Joubert took the letter and safely stowed it underneath his saddle knowing that should he die or fall off, the horse would navigate itself back to the garrison and the letter would be found.

Joubert's horse started to move and the musketeer yelped with pain at the sudden movement. He knew he would be lucky to make it to Paris alive and would never make it back before dark.

Renard turned to the carriage and opened the door. 'Your Majesty,' he indicated with a flourish of his hand that Anne should enter the carriage. Anne moved slowly as her bound hands were affecting her balance but she resolved to hold her head high. Getting in the carriage was much more difficult but soon she was seated and shortly after her Tréville was seated beside her. Anne could tell that he was wincing and his breathing was shallow. Renard finally took a seat across from them and placed his left foot up on the seat staining it with blood while directing a pistol towards them.

'It's not a long journey,' he said matter-of-factly. 'Got a lovely place for you to stay,' his smile was like ice running through Anne's veins.

Anne and Tréville both seriously doubted it as the carriage started to move.


	18. Chapter 18

**Hi. Slightly later update as thesis writing is gettin in the way. Anne and Treville are getting used to there capture in this chapter.**

 **Hope you enjoy it. :)**

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

Anne wasn't sure how far they travelled or for how long but she was still surprised when the carriage came to a sudden stop. Her mind had been flitting between her son, Louis, the death of the musketeers who protected her, the man in front of her bleeding on the seat, Tréville taking shallow rasping breaths next to her, and Aramis and his friends. She wished this was a nightmare but she knew it wasn't. She tried to remain calm as she realised they had arrived at their destination.

'Who are you?' she asked the man who sat across from her as he gingerly lowered his bloody foot from the seat.

'I'm the man holding you for ransom,' he said simply. Anne glared at him and Renard felt a twinge of fear from her icy gaze. 'You meant to ask my name? Well my name is Renard.' He turned to the carriage door that had been opened by Simon and hobbled down the steps.

Tréville was rather surprised that the man would give his name so willingly. He was either a fool or he believed he would never be caught. Judging by the success of the ambush, Tréville thought the latter and that worried him even more. He stepped out of the carriage awkwardly as his tied hands and broken ribs made it difficult to catch his balance. He looked around and saw the shack ahead of him on the hill. He was curious as it didn't look like a stronghold but he also knew that looks could be deceiving.

Anne struggled to get out of the carriage with her hands tied. She just about managed to lift the skirt of her dress so she wouldn't trip but that also made her balance shift. Simon saw this and took hold of her arm gently to stabilise her and Anne was grateful for his help, not that she willing to say it. Once on the ground she gulped slightly at the house, no more of a shack, before her. It looked so run down and she presumed that was their destination.

Renard had limped over to Simon's horse and with the help of Boucher mounted it. He led the animal up the path to the shack and Anne's suspicions were confirmed. Simon started to lead her up the hill and again she was struggling to keep her balance by lifting her skirt so as not to trip. Simon again gently took her arm to help her.

'Thank you,' she said politely when they had reached the door to the shack as her manners took over. He smiled and nodded back and looked nothing like the man who had killed Sarah. But he **had** killed Sarah in cold blood she reminded herself.

The door was opened and she was ushered in but she heard an exclamation of pain behind her as Tréville forced his elbows into Simon's stomach making the man bend over in pain before being overpowered himself by two other men.

'That was not clever, captain,' Renard sneered as he approached them. Tréville stood as tall as he could as Renard sent another punch into his stomach making the captain gasp and groan. Anne was moved roughly towards an open door that she could see could be bolted from the outside. She was forced into the room and could see two moth-eaten mattresses before her and Tréville was thrown in behind her. He stumbled on the mattress but managed to regain his balance.

Renard took out a dagger and held it in front of Anne, 'You Majesty,' he said and Anne realised he wanted to cut the rope on her wrists. She carefully held out her hands as she spied the man over Renard's shoulder holding a pistol. Renard cut the rope gently and Anne could now see the raw skin beneath. She had tried to loosen the rope to no avail and now could see the deep welts caused by her actions. There was dried blood on her skin where the rope had caused friction burns and Rernard looked in surprise at her hands. Renard turned away from Anne and she momentarily thought about finding something to hit him with but realised there was nothing in the room she could use and there was still the man holding the pistol.

'Now are you going to behave?' Renard asked Tréville in a simpering voice. Tréville watched the man in front of him carefully before quickly looking at Anne who was wearing a pleading expression and nodded not trusting himself to say anything. Renard cut the older man's hands free and could see the same friction burns as Tréville too had tried to release the ropes. Renard and the man holding the pistol left the room leaving Anne and Tréville alone and they heard the door lock.

'Are you hurt Your Majesty?' Tréville asked as soon as they were alone.

'Just my wrists,' she replied. 'And I suppose I'm a bit shaken.' Before she realised what was happening Anne felt herself sway and Tréville caught her before lowering her to sit on one of the mattresses.

'We will get out of here,' he said trying to reassure her. 'Once Joubert returns the whole of the musketeer garrison will be sent to rescue you.' She looked in Tréville's eyes and could see the comfort he was trying to give but she could also see the anger welling up inside of him as well as the pain from his beating. Tréville coughed and winced in pain at his damaged ribs which were surely going to hurt for a long time.

'You are hurt,' stated Anne. 'What's wrong?'

'Just my ribs. Nothing can be done,' he stated matter-of-factly as he sat on the second mattress. Tréville couldn't help but smirk at his pain and what was likely to come.

'What?' Anne asked curiously.

'When we get out of here, and we will get out of here, Aramis is going to have a lot of fun poking and prodding me,' he said with an amused smirk on his face.

'Aramis?'

'Yeah. He's basically taken the role of medic in the field and even takes the role when we have a perfectly good physician we can call upon. He will **insist** on checking me himself and Athos and the others will just give me a look that says 'Let him do it' and I will resign myself to his prodding,' Tréville said shaking his head in amusement.

Anne couldn't stifle her laugh, 'Surely you could order him not to?'

'Tried that many times before. Failed every time,' he smiled back at her as his wheezing became more pronounced.

They remained in silence for a while before Anne spoke, 'Perhaps it was good thing that Louis wasn't travelling today,' she said bitterly. 'Still I can't forgive him for neglecting his duty.'

'Forgive me for saying this, but he should have been here today. Perhaps now, we see it may have been a blessing in disguise that our king remains in the Louvre but he still neglected his duty. That does anger me,' Tréville replied earnestly. Anne smiled back weakly. She had never been happy about this trip and now she really wished she had never gone at all.

* * *

The musketeers had stopped at a town for lunch but Aramis could barely eat as he felt his worry growing and he was stirring his soup absent-mindedly with his spoon. The others watched their brother closely and worried for him even more.

'I bet ya a bottle of wine that when we get back to the garrison everythin' is fine an' you were worryin' about nothin',' Porthos said trying to lift the marksman's spirts.

'I only hope you're right Porthos,' Aramis replied quietly as he tried to eat some soup tentatively.

'Still best to get back and find out,' Athos said honestly. He knew that they had all had feelings of danger before and most of the time they had been right. Athos too was starting to feel a sense of worry but so far he had dismissed it as worry for Aramis but now he wasn't so sure.

'Aramis. Maybe you're just tired-,' D'Artagnan tried to ease Aramis' fears but only succeeded in annoying the marksman.

'So you think I'm making it up? Is that it?' Aramis roared in anger and stood up immediately forgetting his food.

'No. I never-'

'Fine. I'll go by myself,' he stormed towards the tavern door. Porthos and Athos exchanged looks and Porthos went after Aramis while Athos indicated that D'Artagnan should sit.

'I didn't mean-,' D'Artagnan ran his fingers through his hair.

'It's all right,' Athos said in a calm voice. 'He is truly worried and can explode without real reason. It's not your fault and he'll forget it quickly,' Athos stood, 'Let's go. Otherwise he will leave without us.' D'Artagnan stood and Athos placed a tip on the table before leaving to find Aramis and Porthos.

* * *

The room in the shack was starting to darken as the sun started to set and Simon entered carrying a tray of food and two flasks of water. Anne, who had let her hair loose, and Tréville didn't move from their places on the mattresses and Simon left without a word. Anne eyed the food suspiciously but Tréville smiled.

'If they wanted to kill you, they would have done it already,' he picked up a bread roll and began to eat. Anne soon followed suit as she realised how hungry she was having not eaten lunch and not eaten a lot for breakfast. They ate in silence until they had finished all the food on the tray and quenched their thirst from the flasks.

'When will Athos and the others be back?' she finally had found the courage to ask the question that she already knew the answer to but hoped she was wrong.

Tréville sighed, 'They won't be back until tomorrow. So it is unlikely that they will be part of the rescue effort.' He could see the disappointment in Anne's eyes and decided to probe further, 'You feel comfortable around them, don't you?' Anne startled at the question and Tréville thought she may rebuke him but she didn't.

'Ever since Aramis protected me at the Bastille and then all of them together against the assassin and then their insistence on exposing the Richelieu, I have felt a warmth from them,' she admitted. 'I feel safe with them.' She looked towards Tréville and could see understanding in his eyes. 'I never really took any notice of those that protected me,' she continued, 'I suppose I took them for granted. It was only when I truly needed them that I began to notice.'

'We are just there for your protection. We are not meant to be noticed,' Tréville reassured her.

'Still….I've come to rely on those four,' Anne said with slight embarrassment.

'You're not the only one,' Tréville admitted to Anne's surprise. 'They are the best of the regiment but sometimes I do wish I could strangle them,' he said smiling broadly.

'Why?' Anne asked with astonishment in her voice.

'They attract more trouble than the rest of the garrison put together! Where there's trouble you usually find them,' Tréville laughed but winced quickly as the action hurt his ribs.

'They are your favourites?' Anne looked knowingly towards the man and he knew he couldn't deny it.

'Yes. I suppose they are. I shouldn't have favourites,' he sighed despondently.

'You are only human. Some people we like, others we dislike intensely but we don't have a reason why. It's only natural,' she said honestly.

'They happen to be the best and maybe I give them more freedom than others,' he admitted.

'Tell me about them. Please.'

* * *

Joubert was still upright on his horse but he wasn't sure how. His horse, Toffee, was steering him towards Paris and Joubert could see the city in silhouette as he started to approach. He allowed Toffee to guide him as the horse knew the way back to the garrison and it allowed Joubert to conserve the strength that he had left. He had thought about going directly to the palace but he knew that if he was unconscious he couldn't rely on those there to find the letter he had stashed under Toffee's saddle. They were bound to find it at the garrison.

He let out a groan as he jolted in the saddle and his shoulder burned with fire. The shot had passed through his shoulder which meant that the ball was not imbedded in his body but he had lost a lot of blood as a result of an entry and an exit wound but both wounds were starting to itch which was a sure sign of infection. He felt himself starting to sway and was thankful for the bindings that tied him to his horse. Just a bit further.

* * *

'Tell me about them. Please,' Anne asked with true interest. Tréville thought for a moment but Anne spoke again, 'Nothing they wouldn't want me to know of course. How about, how they all became musketeers?' she smiled.

'Alright,' Tréville agreed, they didn't have anything else to talk about. 'As you know Louis founded the Musketeer regiment in 1622 and I was the first captain. I was allowed to pick the very best from all of the existing regiments,' Anne could clearly hear the pride in Tréville's voice. 'I picked many distinguished soldiers but I soon realised that I needed some youth as well. So I set about finding younger men to serve and train as part of the regiment. Those that I thought could be honed into exceptional soldiers.' Tréville winced as he moved himself so that he was leaning against the wall and felt the reassuring presence of the wall at his back.

'As I was searching,' he continued while Anne listened with rapt attention, 'I came across a rather skinny young man who was boasting about how he could fire one of the new muskets from 50 feet and hit his target most of the time,' he smiled as he remembered the moment.

'A shot from 50 feet is pretty difficult. Most men struggle to hit accurately from that distance,' Tréville explained. 'My first thought was that this was a very arrogant young man who would soon meet his match. I watched as the targets were set up and the man started to shoot. I had never seen someone shoot and reload a musket so quickly. Not only that, he hit four out of the five targets dead centre and the one he didn't it was only slightly offline. He was an amazing marksman and I'm sure you have guessed that his name was Aramis,' he finished with a smile. Anne smiled back as she heard about the young man who had gone on to be her saviour and her lover.

'Just goes to show that first impressions aren't everything and I use the incident with Aramis to remember that,' Tréville said honestly. 'But what impressed me the most was his willingness to help the other men. They asked him for help and he checked everything to the last detail, including stance, how the weapon was held and even how the trigger was pulled. Within a few minutes he had helped the other men's' accuracy and their shots were far better than before.'

'Certainly sounds like the Aramis I know,' Anne said lightly.

'Indeed, he was the youngest originally commissioned. You wouldn't know it now but we finally got some muscle onto his scrawny body and his sword and combat skills greatly improved.'

'I find it hard to believe that Aramis was ever scrawny!' Anne laughed, momentarily forgetting where she was and why they were having this conversation.

'He really was! He also had a friend called Marsac who was never quite as likeable. They were very close,' Tréville's expression suddenly darkened making Anne feel slightly uncomfortable. He noticed the change in her demeanour as he realised his expression had changed.

'Then three years later came one of the darkest days in the regiment's history….Savoy,' he sighed deeply.


	19. Chapter 19

**Please be warned that this chapter does involve some descriptions of dead bodies but it isn't too graphic.**

 **As always, I'm glad that so many of you are sticking with this story. :)**

* * *

Chapter Nineteen

'Where is she?' Louis demanded loudly as he paced through the throne room as if she would suddenly appear by his command. 'She should've been back ages ago!'

'I'm sure there is a good explanation, Sire,' Rochefort responded. Yes, an explanation that meant his plan had worked. He was doing all he could not to show his delight at the delay of the Queen's carriage and the high likelihood that he would get exactly what he wanted.

'What Rochefort? The weather has been fine. They've been attacked!' Louis was growing more distressed by the minute and considering the King's behaviour towards his wife recently this was a surprise for Rochefort.

'It is possible that the carriage may have needed repair or Her Majesty was detained while speaking to the Duke of Mayenne and had to stay another night,' Rochefort replied.

'If she was delayed by the Duke a message would have been sent and surely it doesn't take very long to repair a carriage. Even so, Tréville would make sure she returned and would've given her a horse while his men fixed the carriage. Something terrible has happened. I can feel it!' Louis continued pacing and was full of worry for his wife.

'Tréville will make sure she is alright, Sire,' Milday tried the reassure the king. 'The musketeers are your finest soldiers and it would take a lot of men to overpower them.'

 _Indeed_ , thought Rochefort and he was secretly glad that Renard would have twenty men at his disposal. Any less and it was likely that the musketeers' would prevail. He was also sure that Renard was likely to have lost many men and hoped that Renard would be able to keep Tréville from helping the Queen escape. If they were at the shack then all was going to plan and best of all, the four most annoying musketeers wouldn't be back in time to challenge him.

'You are right. She couldn't be better protected,' Louis kissed Milady's hands to thank her for her words of comfort and she smiled back but he continued to worry about the fate of his wife.

Rochefort watched the king but felt no sympathy for him. The man had cast his beautiful wife aside for the common whore who stood so boldly beside the king now. A pretty dress and jewels could not hide the scent of the gutter.

Rochefort couldn't help but imagine Anne's tear-stained face as he came to her rescue from her terrible ordeal, how he would hold her tight in his arms and how she would finally betray her foolish husband for the love they both shared. It may be treason but once Anne was in his grasp Louis would be the victim of an unfortunate accident and Anne would be left to rule as reagent for her son. Rochefort knew he would be beside her and they would be together for the rest of their lives.

* * *

'Savoy,' Tréville shook his head in despair.

'I know it can't have been easy for you. Losing all your men,' Anne said quietly placing her hand on his left forearm. 'I suppose it can't have been easy for Aramis losing his friends.'

Tréville looked up, 'What do you mean exactly?' Anne furrowed her brow and looked confused.

'I merely meant it can't have been easy for him knowing that his friends died while he was safe,' Anne explained. Tréville sighed. She didn't know and now he had to decide whether to finally reveal the truth. A truth he had kept hidden for six years. A truth that meant he could never speak of what occurred in case it put Aramis' life in danger. Richelieu was gone though and Tréville was sure that the woman in front of him would never put Aramis and his friends in danger. She was very loyal to them as they were to her.

Tréville was brought from his thoughts as Anne was speaking again, 'Richelieu never truly let on his plan. I know he didn't reveal everything to you and Louis was never happy about sending his best soldiers on a mission that would likely see them killed.'

'Slaughtered is more the word,' Tréville interrupted and Anne looked at him sympathetically.

'Richelieu knew you would protest if you knew the truth and he convinced Louis that the ruse to capture Cluzet wouldn't be convincing if Louis didn't send his best soldiers to depose the Duke.' Anne's eyes were full of sadness. 'Richelieu convinced Louis that his sister's life and role as a spy was more important than the lives of his soldiers.'

'I understand that,' Tréville said with dejection.

'I'm sorry you lost all the men that went out to Savoy. I'm sure many of them were part of the regiment from the start,' she squeezed Tréville's forearm gently as sign of comfort.

'Yes, many were. But there was also a lot of new recruits who met their deaths that day,' Tréville's voice was starting to crack and tears were starting to roll down his face. 'Forgive me,' he turned away from her but Anne moved to sit on his mattress and placed her left hand on his left leg.

'You've never spoken of this have you?' she asked gently and Tréville responded by shaking his head slowly. 'Then perhaps it is time you did,' her eyes were honest and kind and Tréville felt a need to tell her everything. She was the Queen and yet right now she wanted to hear his troubles and was willing to listen to him.

'I betrayed my men,' Tréville had started crying again.

'No you didn't. You followed an order from your King,' she said smoothly.

'But I also lied to my King,' he said looking straight at Anne who cocked her head to the side in curiosity. He had to tell her. He had to tell someone and he truly doubted that she would ever repeat anything that was said in this disgusting room.

Tréville took a deep breath and looked his Queen in the eyes as he stated, 'I sent twenty-two men out to Savoy. Twenty died,' he felt Anne's hand tense on his leg at this development, 'one deserted and one survived,' he finished and Anne's face fell into a look of shock and surprise.

'But nobody survived,' she stated in astonishment at what she had just heard. 'Who could possibly have survived?'

'I am willing to tell you, Your Majesty,' and Tréville placed his hand on hers, 'But I hope that you will not think less of me for lying or for trying to protect that man. If Richelieu had known there was a survivor that man wouldn't have lasted a week and we both know it.' Anne nodded slowly in agreement, still trying to digest what she had just heard but she also knew that anyone who survived Savoy could possibly be aware of the truth and Richelieu would never have stood for that.

'Please tell me. It will not leave this room. I give you my word,' Anne said boldly as she finally found her voice.

'I'm afraid some of it may be a little hard to stomach,' Tréville said looking at Anne and trying to gauge her response.

'Tell me everything. No matter how horrific. You need to speak of it and you have bottled this up for far too long, Captain.' Anne's eyes were earnest and Tréville decided that he would tell her everything and he knew she would not betray him.

* * *

Paris was finally silhouetted in the distance for the musketeers who were now all tired and hungry but they knew Aramis wasn't going to stop and neither could they. The horses had held up well and would surely be happy to be back at the garrison stables as soon as possible.

Aramis' face was a mask of worry and the others were worried about him but they knew better than to mention it. Any questions asked to the marksman were given swift and short replies. The only thing that could ease his worry was getting back to garrison and finding all was well. To be honest the same could be said for the others.

They pushed on in the gloom and hoped they would find no trouble as they returned home.

* * *

Tréville pondered where to start and how much detail to give. He finally decided to start with his need to follow the men he had sent to Savoy as Anne had already demonstrated that she knew about his orders.

'You know what Louis ordered me to do,' Tréville looked to Anne who nodded. 'With the carts carrying equipment it took them a week to reach the border but I didn't know that Richelieu had led the Duke of Savoy to believe that my men were going to Savoy to depose him. I only found that out later.' Tréville shifted uncomfortably and looked at Anne's earnest eyes. He knew this would be uncomfortable but he felt he couldn't turn back now.

'I left for Savoy three days later with Cornet and Mathieu. Two men I trusted with my life but I couldn't tell them the truth. I told them we were going to check on the training as I have done in the past. I made some excuse to Louis and we set off. I had a feeling of dread the entire time.' Tréville paused for a moment and tried to collect his thoughts. Anne moved closer to him and Tréville realised that she wanted to sit beside him. He moved across on the mattress so she could sit on his left and her shoulder touched his.

'We got there about two days after the men. They were camping in a small clearing in the forest which should have been hard to find, but it wasn't.' Despite his aching ribs Tréville drew his knees close to his chest and rested his forearms on them. 'Crows were circling…and we knew that something terrible had happened,' Tréville's voice started to break and Anne moved her right hand onto the man's arm in support.

'We reached the clearing and the smell of blood was overwhelming,' Tréville's eyes started to glisten as he spoke and Anne swallowed thickly at the description to come. 'We saw our men, who had left with no knowledge of the pawns they were in an elaborate game, lying in the dirt in their night clothes, most of them. Crows were now pecking at their lifeless bodies and their eyes…their eyes saw no more.' Tréville began to earnestly sob while Anne swallowed down need to throw up the recent food from her stomach and squeezed his arm reassuringly. Tréville found he was glad of her comfort and knew it couldn't be easy for her to be here. Louis would never hear what Tréville was going to say tonight but Anne had such a kind and sympathetic heart. He didn't wish to force her to hear anymore but he found her couldn't stop and she would never ask him to.

'I had to check who was dead but I knew they all were,' Treville continued quietly. 'I had my list and checked each name off. We cleared a couple of the wagons for the bodies and placed all the equipment in the other. We became aware that two men were missing. We started to search the trees beyond the clearing and then I saw him. Slumped against a tree but unlike the others, his eyes were closed. He had clearly been dragged to his position and his head and side wounds had been clumsily treated. I bent down and put my fingers to his throat but I couldn't feel a pulse. He was so cold. He was dead. But then he groaned slightly and those brown eyes stared back at me but they didn't see me. Of that I'm sure.'

Tréville turned towards Anne and could see the distress his story had caused on her face and yet he knew she wouldn't ask him to stop. 'Aramis was alive,' he said simply and he saw his Queen's face contort with shock and surprise.

'Aramis was the survivor?' she asked hesitantly. She couldn't begin to imagine what her strong and brave musketeer had been through. She loved him even more for it. He was a survivor.

'Aramis survived. Marsac wasn't found but we did find an extra pauldron among the equipment. He deserted after that terrible day,' Tréville said sadly. 'I ordered Cornet and Mathieu to look for him and ready themselves to return to Paris. I also ordered them to never reveal that Aramis or Marsac were ever at Savoy. I said they had left with the group but were on a different mission and we found Aramis on the way back but Marsac was nowhere to be found. I lied to protect Aramis.' He knew he didn't need to justify himself to the Queen but he did anyway.

'You did what was best for those you could protect,' Anne said finally finding her voice and she squeezed Tréville's shoulder reassuringly.

'I took Aramis to a nearby town and called for physician,' Tréville shook his head in exasperation as he remembered the event causing a confused look on Anne's face. 'The physician said that Aramis would most certainly die as he had lost a lot of blood and his wounds were infected. He didn't want to waste provisions on a dying man!' Tréville said angrily and Anne could feel his body tense under her hand.

'I slammed him against the wall and told him I would not give up and neither should he. I think he agreed to help me because he was terrified,' Tréville added with a smile at Anne who smiled weakly back. 'The pain and suffering I saw him go through made me want to end his suffering but I had to let him fight. It was his nature. By the grace of God Aramis survived. Well his body did anyway. Slowly we made our back to Paris. He couldn't remember much and couldn't identify the attackers but he had told me that Marsac had dragged him from the fight when he was injured and treated his wounds as best he could. But the next morning Marsac had stripped off his uniform and left him to die alone,' Tréville placed his hand on top of Anne's on his shoulder as he saw her cover her mouth with her other hand as she breathed in sharply, shocked at what she had just heard.

'Was it Marsac that tried to kill the Duke of Savoy on his visit?' Anne asked quietly. Tréville nodded and he was unsurprised that Anne had managed to work it out.

'Aramis hid him. He still wanted to believe that Marsac was the man he knew before the massacre but in the end Aramis shot his once friend to protect me. Marsac had found out the truth but he couldn't accept it. Aramis didn't at first but he finally understood why it happened and he didn't blame me. But Aramis had something Marsac didn't. His brothers.' Tréville squeezed Anne's hand before letting go.

'Of course after Savoy Aramis couldn't speak to anyone. Couldn't tell anyone the truth because Richelieu would have seen to it that any witnesses were disposed of. Cornet and Mathieu didn't want to speak of the horrors and I didn't want to acknowledge my own role in it. Aramis was alone….and it showed. He became withdrawn and put no effort into training or helping the new recruits that had replaced his friends.' Tréville raised his hand to face and pinched his nose as he remembered the darkest time the regiment had seen and how the young man who had been so full of life had wallowed in grief and self-pity.

'He became a changed man,' he said finally. 'He was not the Aramis I knew. I often wondered if it would have been better if he had died with others in Savoy,' he said with guilt etched in his voice for even thinking it.

'I understand why,' Anne said quietly beside him.

'I'd seen it before. Men who would go charging into a fight not caring if they lived or died. He was reckless and didn't train. Drank far more than he should. He had mentioned taking a religious life and asked my consent but I told him no. Cornet and Mathieu watched his decline with me and both suggested I revoke his commission and send him away to a monastery. I couldn't,' he looked at Anne with tears welling in his eyes again. 'I couldn't give up on him. But I couldn't help him either as it meant facing my own fears,' tears were now trickling down his cheeks again. 'And remembering that I was the cause of this man's loss of character. The change in him. That I made him what he was now.' Tréville sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve and Anne was surprised to see that he was now smiling as she digested everything Aramis had been through. How had Aramis become the man she knew and loved? He had been truly broken but she had never witnessed that man and hoped she never would.

'Then came his salvation,' Tréville said now grinning broadly. 'Porthos.'

* * *

After riding hard throughout the day the musketeers finally arrived at the garrison and were met by a rather shocked Gabriel.

'Thought you weren't due back till tomorrow?' he asked curiously has he took Roger's reins, allowing Athos to dismount easily.

'We weren't,' Athos stated curtly with no heat in his voice. 'Is everything well here?' Gabriel didn't answer straight away. 'Gabriel?'

'Captain Tréville went out with the Queen to Dreux yesterday but we expected him to have returned by now,' Athos eyes darkened at Gabriel's words. 'I suppose he has just been caught up at the palace,' Gabriel tried to lift the mood.

'I knew something was wrong,' Aramis voice came from over Athos' shoulder.

'We don't know that yet,' Porthos said looking to the marksman.

'What about the other musketeers? Have they returned?' D'Artagnan asked but he had his answer as Gabriel stared at the ground.

'No,' he said softly.

'Something is definitely wrong. I can feel it,' Aramis said with urgency in his voice.

'Aramis we can't be sure,' Porthos tried again to placate his friend.

'No. I feel it too,' Athos said quietly. 'But we can't do anything until we know the facts.'

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you enjoyed my ideas of Savoy from Tréville's point of view. :)**


	20. Chapter 20

**Hi Everyone. Can't believe I'm on Chapter 20!**

 **I know this update has taken longer than usual but presently I'm trying to write my thesis so updates may take a bit longer for the next few weeks. Of course it also happens to be a longer chapter as well!**

 **Please be aware that there is some racial prejudice in this chapter which is meant in the context of the 17th century.**

 **Hope you enjoy it! :)**

* * *

Chapter Twenty

'Porthos?' Anne looked enquiringly at Tréville before blushing slightly. Tréville gave her a questioning look and she continued, 'Can I be honest?' Tréville nodded. 'He used to terrify me,' she said looking rather embarrassed. Tréville couldn't help himself and burst out laughing but immediately regretted it as his ribs started aching and he moved a hand to them as he grimaced slightly.

'Oh, I'm sorry,' Anne looked distraught at causing the man further pain but Tréville simply waved his hand as if to say he was fine.

'To be honest, Porthos tends to scare most people,' he chuckled, grinning broadly.

'Of course, now I know him to be gentle and caring but he really did use to frighten the life out of me! He's just so strong and powerful,' Tréville sensed a tinge of admiration her voice. 'I have no doubt he could crush a man with just a few blows.'

'He always was powerful and strong. Even when I first met him,' Tréville looked to Anne and confirmed that she wanted to hear more. 'I'm telling you this so you see how remarkable a man he is but many would see his origins as way to slight him,' Tréville gave Anne a warning look.

'I have told you Tréville, what is said in this room won't leave this room,' she paused. 'Ok, Constance may hear it but I'm certain she knows most of this already,' Anne looked to Tréville and could see the smile in his eyes.

'Porthos grew up in the Court of Miracles,' Tréville paused to see Anne's reaction.

'That can't have been easy,' she replied. 'The people there have nothing and I always worry about the poor children who are forced to steal to feed themselves. So many end up at the gallows,' she said sadly.

'Indeed, but it is a dangerous place to enter if you are not like them. Porthos grew up in abject poverty. He had nothing and his mother died while he was still young. He has every reason to hate the law and a country that did nothing to help him,' Tréville's eyes were sad but Anne knew that this particular story ended well.

'After Savoy I was tasked with returning the garrison to full capacity. I again searched the other regiments and I found myself at the infantry trials,' Tréville sighed as he remembered his search. 'For the infantry anyone can try out and if successful you earn money straight away and have lodgings and food provided. It means that many poorer men can earn a living,' he added as an extra explanation to Anne and she nodded that she understood.

'I was watching the trials and a dark-skinned young man caught my eye but I also knew that the captain in charge would never allow him into the infantry,' Anne looked puzzled at Tréville's words. 'Porthos colour works against him,' Tréville explained. 'The captain in charge believed that the King's army should not include those that were inferior.'

'He didn't like anyone who wasn't white,' she said dejectedly.

'I watched Porthos and it became clear that in a fight with no weapons no-one could touch him. He was a big man, strong but unusually light on his feet for a man of his size. He clearly had no training with a sword or a pistol.'

'I doubt they would have those in the Court,' Anne interrupted.

'No, they wouldn't except for weapons that were stolen. It was clear why the captain didn't sign Porthos up to the army though and to Porthos' credit he didn't make any kind of spectacle. I'm afraid he was used to this kind of treatment and unfortunately still is,' Tréville said dejectedly and Anne sighed heavily. 'I knew he had no money by looking at his clothes but I approached him anyway and asked if he would consider trying the Musketeers. He gave me a very strange look,' Tréville grinned towards Anne who smiled back.

'Considering he had just been denied the infantry, I'm sure he must have thought it was a joke about the Musketeers!' Anne said laughing.

'Indeed he did. He had heard that the Musketeers were the best and he thought I was having him on. Of course the Musketeers are the best and don't pay until they are commissioned but I explained to him that I wanted him to train with the Musketeers, as I was the Captain it was my decision, and I could get him work in the meantime.' Anne tilted her head curiously and waited for Tréville to continue.

'There was a baker, Monsieur Blanc-'

'That's an apt name,' Anne interrupted with a smile.

'Yes, I suppose it is for baker!' Tréville smiled. 'I'd never thought of that. He often needed help from the garrison in moving supplies and I often sent cadets to work for him while training. It meant they had lodgings and money and they spent the rest of the day at the garrison. Porthos agreed and soon he was showing what a good combat fighter he was. He was very lacking with a sword and pistol though,' Tréville couldn't help but smile at his memories.

'Did he ever tell you why he left the Court?' Tréville looked at her questioningly. 'I only meant, it must have been hard to leave what you know behind and he must have known how difficult it would be,' she added hastily thinking of how difficult it was for her to leave Spain.

'It's ok. I know what you meant,' Anne sighed in relief at his words. She truly did not want to offend anyone. 'He told me, he simply wanted more. Yes he could survive in the Court but he wanted to **live** and he had the courage to go after it but some of his friends did not. He continued to work for Blanc and his training improved but even in the Musketeers there was some dissent at having a man of darker skin in the regiment,' Tréville looked disappointed as he spoke.

'Some prejudices are hard to overcome,' Anne said quietly.

'True, but I hope now it isn't an issue as the Musketeer regiment relies on its ability to trust one and other. Back then we had the fourth son of the Duke of Bordeaux. Pompous idiot who was relatively good with a sword but he believed he was the best in the regiment! Daddy bought his commission of course.' Anne was surprised to hear Tréville speak so harshly of one of his men.

'You didn't like him?' she asked already knowing the answer.

'What gave it away?' Tréville responded with playful sarcasm and a quirk of his mouth. Anne tried to suppress her smile and failed. Louis never joked like that and she was sure she had heard this type banter before. Of course she had, with her musketeers. 'One day as training finished Bordeaux made a comment about dogs training and aimed it straight at Porthos,' Tréville frowned.

'That's horrible!' Anne exclaimed.

'I was on my way down to the courtyard when I heard a roar of 'Apologise!' and I turned to see Aramis who I hadn't realised was there. He was more incensed than I'd ever seen him. I don't think he even knew who Porthos was!' Tréville couldn't help the pride in his voice and he was sure Anne had heard it. 'Aramis challenged Bordeaux to a fight. Now normally I would stop that immediately but for some reason I decided to stay in the shadows watch,' he added with an air of confusion. 'Aramis told Bordeaux that if he won Bordeaux would have to apologise. Bordeaux asked what Aramis would do if he won and Aramis replied that he would resign his commission.'

'And you let it go ahead?' Anne looked bewildered.

'Strangely yes,' Tréville answered. 'It was the most emotion I had seen from Aramis in a long while. He had been so depressed. I felt he needed this. Porthos tried to protest but there was no going back. Honestly I thought Bordeaux would win,' Tréville started to smile. 'Aramis had other ideas,' Tréville saw the smile now wide on his Queen's face now mirroring his.

'He won then?' she smiled.

'In five moves,' Tréville said triumphantly. 'The old Aramis would have won in three moves but finally I started to hope that he was back. Bordeaux refused to apologise though and Aramis was beyond angry. Porthos managed to stop him by easily wrapping his arms around Aramis and lifting him of the floor,' the last words would said with laughs punctuating his speech and Anne found herself laughing too.

Once the laughing subsided and Tréville inwardly cursed his broken ribs, he continued, 'Bordeaux was adamant he was right and I eventually made my way down to the courtyard. Bordeaux insisted that I dismiss both Aramis and Porthos,' Anne's eyes were wide with shock.

'How dare he suggest that,' she said defiantly.

'I told him that neither Aramis nor Porthos would be dismissed. He then addressed the garrison grandly and stated that the Musketeers should be the finest regiment and I was not fit to lead them,' Tréville settled for an amused smirk while Anne momentarily had her mouth wide open in shock but soon closed her mouth when she realised what she was doing. 'He asked the regiment to decide, there was rather a big crowd now, whether they wanted vermin like them, he pointed to Aramis and Porthos, fighting alongside them or would rather have a pure regiment. He asked them to choose.'

Anne was holding her breath even though she was sure of the outcome.

'The men in one movement all went and stood behind Porthos and Aramis leaving the idiot alone,' the pride was clear in Tréville's voice. 'One of the proudest moments in my life,' he said earnestly.

'Surely Bordeaux couldn't stay?' Anne asked incredulously.

'Of course not. I stripped him of his commission there and then. Told him to pack his bags and leave. He couldn't get away fast enough.'

'And Aramis?' Anne tried not to look too interested but she longed to know what happened to her musketeer.

'Porthos thanked Aramis and somehow convinced him to go for a drink that night, which was quite a victory considering Aramis' mental state. After that Porthos tended to seek Aramis out and eventually got him used to being around others again. I think Porthos realised that Aramis had his own troubles and needed a friend while Aramis finally realised that there was someone there who cared. As the days went by I saw them together more often and Aramis was starting to look and sound like the young man I once knew. Aramis couldn't tell Porthos the truth but he did help improve Porthos' shooting skills while Porthos got Aramis back into shape. I remember when Porthos received his commission and the pride on Aramis' face and the joy pouring from him. Porthos had helped Aramis to live again and from then on they were nigh inseparable.'

* * *

The musketeers were sat uneasily at their regular table waiting for news. So far they had established that Tréville had accompanied the Queen to Dreux in the place of Louis and so far had not returned. D'Artagnan was anxious too as it was likely that Constance would have accompanied the Queen. All they could do was sit and wait.

'Joubert!' cried Gabriel as he saw the severely injured musketeer ride through the gates. The musketeers were up from there table in a flash and Porthos managed to gently pull Joubert from the saddle after D'Artagnan had untied the rope. Joubert was barely conscious but he managed to whisper, 'Letter,' before passing out. Athos grabbed the letter from underneath Joubert's saddle while Aramis was ordering men to get the infirmary ready while examining Joubert's wound.

 _We have your Queen and your Captain._

 _Bring these prisoners to the shack on the Dreux road in the La Queue-les-Yvelines wood as soon as possible or you will never see your Queen and Captain again._

Athos read the three names below. They sounded familiar but he couldn't quite place them

'Athos?' came Aramis' voice in the distance and Aramis took the letter and read it for himself before letting out a roar of anger.

'What?' Porthos immediately asked but it was Athos that answered.

'The Queen and Tréville are hostages,' he said calmly and without emotion.

'The bastards! I'll rip them apart!' Aramis couldn't contain his emotions anymore.

'What about Constance?' D'Artagnan asked with worry etched in his voice.

'It doesn't say,' Athos replied quietly while D'Artagnan ran his fingers through his hair worriedly.

Gabriel and the other men transported Joubert to the infirmary and Aramis for once hesitated to follow. As if by summons Dr. Lemay arrived at the garrison looking relaxed but tensed as he saw the faces of the musketeers.

Aramis moved towards him, 'Joubert has been shot. The ball has passed straight through his shoulder and he has just passed out. Most likely from blood loss,' he informed the doctor.

'Right. I shall see to him immediately,' Lemay moved off towards the infirmary.

'Jacques,' Athos called and the stable boy appeared. 'Find us four horses that can make it to the Louvre quickly please,' Jacques nodded and did as he was instructed and the musketeers moved to help him. They had to get to the palace as quickly as possible.

* * *

'So how did Athos become part of the regiment?' Anne asked curiously.

'Athos was a lucky find,' Tréville chuckled softly aware of his aching ribs. 'I still hadn't quite got the regiment up to its full number from before Savoy so I was still on the lookout for anyone with skill.'

'He is clearly skilled. Constance says he's the best in the regiment!' Anne smiled.

'And he is but the Athos I knew back then was very different,' he said solemnly. 'Athos had lost loved ones, I won't go into detail as it's private, but he was in the same sort of mind-set Aramis had been after Savoy.'

'Oh. I didn't realise,' Anne said quietly and visibly deflated.

'He had suffered, I suppose they all have, and like Aramis, Athos rather found alcohol a solution,' Tréville started to smile and Anne looked at him curiously. 'I suppose if he hadn't I would never have found him and he wouldn't be a musketeer!'

'Strange how things happen, isn't it?' Anne said knowledgably.

'Indeed it is,' Tréville agreed. 'I found him stumbling out of a tavern absolutely blind drunk. My first thought was he was just another drunk but I noticed his clothes although rather dirty and torn had originally been good quality. The sword he held bore the mark of the Comte de la Fère and was clearly expensive and well made. He had the misfortune to run into three Red Guards who started threatening him with the Châtelet for drunken behaviour. Normally I would have intervened but for some reason I stepped backed and watched. Athos disarmed them all easily and then they ran!' Tréville chuckled.

'Even completely drunk they were no match for him?' Anne asked in surprise.

'No match,' Tréville's eyes were twinkling with amusement. 'I offered him a chance at the Musketeer garrison but to be honest I didn't expect him to show. I was happily surprised to see him wander in the next day but I knew with the hurt he was displaying that he may have had other reasons to join.'

'What do you mean?' Anne asked looking slightly surprised at his statement.

'To be honest, Athos was so depressed that he was seeking an honourable death. To die serving the King would mean his death wouldn't be in vain and he could die with a sense of pride,' Tréville said sadly as Anne looked shocked at this revelation.

'I noticed his demeanour,' Tréville continued, 'and made sure that he was not put on dangerous assignments. Unlike most men who could afford to buy their commission Athos didn't and I sensed there was still some pride left in him. He kept himself to himself and rarely engaged anyone in conversation unless it was required. Short sentences as well.'

'From what I've heard, not much has changed,' Anne said cheekily.

'True,' Tréville nodded and smiled. 'But now he is actually capable of longer sentences, when required of course,' Tréville's eyes sparkled with mischief at his statement. 'He earned his commission quickly after he protected Louis at a function and tackled the attacker to the floor.'

'Yes, I think I remember that. That was Athos!' Anne said remembering the scene.

'Later I sent him out on missions with Aramis and Porthos who I hoped may bring him out of his shell. Aramis was starting to behave more like his old self and Porthos generally lifts moods if people let him,' Anne had the feeling Athos may not be a person who would allow Porthos to lift his mood. 'On one simple mission, they were delivering letters to nobles, they arrived back late with all them injured and Athos fighting for his life.'

'Thankfully he survived, unless the Athos we know is the undead,' Anne's eyes again sparkled with mischief and Tréville was glad to see this rarely seen side of his Queen.

'He did survive but it was quite a fight. Aramis and Porthos refused to leave his side the entire time. When I later confirmed to Athos that they hadn't moved from his side since they got him back to the garrison the man looked rather shocked,' Tréville fidgeted slightly. 'I don't think he expected the loyalty he had received from them and once he was awake I think he was slightly annoyed that they wouldn't leave him alone!'

'Did you know then that they would form such a close group?' Anne asked eagerly.

'No. I could never have imagined it but neither could I have imagined what happened next,' he said seriously while Anne looked curiously at him. 'Aramis and Porthos were severely injured when they were attacked by bandits,' Anne gave a gasp of shock at his words. 'Athos was still recovering from his own injuries but he wouldn't leave their side even when he was fit enough to leave the infirmary. I initially thought he was doing it to repay them but I soon realised that he had begun to warm to them both. Aramis was the worse off and then...his nightmares returned,' Tréville looked at Anne with a slightly haunted expression.

'Savoy,' she whispered.

'His nightmares were terrible and it can't have been easy for Athos and Porthos to watch. Soon they made the connection to Savoy and then, once Aramis was recovering, they confronted me,' Tréville sighed. 'To be honest it was a relief for someone else to know but mainly that I knew Aramis would have those he could talk to. It was clear from the moment they announced that they knew, they would not leave him. Friends, no brothers, he could trust with his secret,' Anne could hear the pride in Tréville's voice.

'That's when you knew?' Anne cocked her head to the left slightly as she asked.

'That they would be inseparable?' Anne nodded. 'Yes. They were men who all had their own demons but together they would find a way to overcome them. Some more than others but they would always have each other,' Tréville smiled with heartfelt pride as he thought of the bond between these men. 'Of course it was an added bonus that I had my best swordsman, best combat fighter and best marksman all in the same group,' he finished lightly.

Tréville looked to Anne, whose face was bathed in moonlight shining in from the small window, 'Many men tried to make that trio a quartet but none succeeded,' Tréville grinned broadly, 'until D'Artagnan.'

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you enjoyed my explanations of how Porthos and Athos joined the Musketeers. :)**


	21. Chapter 21

**Hello. This chapter is the longest I've written so far. Mainly because the first scene is a bit longer than I anticipated. As explained previously updates may be a bit slow for the next few weeks. Thank you to all of you who are sticking with this story. :)**

 **With the length of this chapter I'm sure there are a few mistakes but they are all mine. I hope you enjoy it. :)**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One

The musketeers made their way through the palace as swiftly as possible and stopped only once to find out the location of the King. Athos could tell Porthos was angry but he was more worried about Aramis and D'Artagnan. Aramis' eyes were struck with fear for the Queen and Athos hoped the man would be able to keep his emotions in check, while D'Artagnan was constantly looking around hoping Constance would suddenly appear but they had all privately agreed that Constance had likely travelled with the Queen. Athos knew he would have to keep his own emotions in check as well as his brothers'.

The door to the throne room was opened for them and immediately they saw Louis pacing in front of the thrones with Rochefort standing nearby and to Athos' chagrin, Milady talking to the pacing king quietly. Louis looked up to the new arrivals and immediately saw from their expressions that they came with bad news.

'What has happened?' he asked quietly, as if the question would have a better answer if it was asked quietly. Athos placed the letter in Louis' hand and allowed time for the King to read it.

Rochefort was silently cursing at the four men in front of him. They were not supposed to be back until tomorrow and could completely upset his plans. Rochefort knew that Athos would counter every suggestion he made and Louis may yet believe the musketeer over him. Rochefort knew he needed to act quickly.

'No!' Louis wailed as he stumbled backwards to sit on the steps that led up to his throne. 'This can't be happening,' he shook his head slowly.

'May I, Sire?' Rochefort asked and held out his hand as Louis handed over the letter. Rochefort managed to hide his smile, but only just. The Queen and Tréville had been successfully captured but woe betide anyone if they had hurt her.

'Sire, it is time to face the facts,' Rochefort announced pompously. 'The Musketeers are incompetent and are incapable of defending the royal family.'

'Now wait a minute-,' Porthos roared as he started towards Rochefort only to find Athos arm signalling him to stop.

'The Musketeers have once again failed you, Your Majesty. The Queen has been captured and held hostage and the musketeers guarding her were obviously inadequate. This cannot be allowed to happen any longer,' Rochefort was truly enjoying the situation now but he was aware he hadn't been interrupted again and Athos' stare was making him uncomfortable. 'It is time for the Red Guard to take the Musketeers' place as Your Majesty's most trusted regiment. It is time for the Musketeers to be disbanded,' he finished defiantly aware of the seething from the four musketeers in front of him and the shallow breaths of Louis at his feet. Milady had somehow manged to quietly blend into the background and for a few moments there was only silence.

'Sire,' Athos voice broke the silence from Rochefort's tirade, 'May I help you?' Athos extended his hand as Louis looked up and took it. Athos pulled Louis to his feet and guided him up the steps to sit on his throne.

'Was there anything else except the letter?' Louis asked looking directly at Athos.

'No, Sire. Joubert arrived having been shot and he collapsed almost immediately after entering the garrison. He only indicated the letter and is currently being cared for by Dr. Lemay.,' Athos said sombrely.

'I doubt Joubert will be able tell us much more as he had obviously lost a lot of blood and may yet lose his life,' Aramis pitched in with his voice steadier than he thought he could manage.

'Sire, it is time to act,' Rochefort announced. 'I will lead the Red Guard to rescue Her Majesty at first light.'

'Sire, the Musketeers are your best soldiers. The attack must have been well planned otherwise the kidnappers would never have prevailed. Captain Tréville and the other musketeers will have fought their hardest to ensure the Queen's safety. Please let the Musketeers handle this. We will not disappoint you,' Athos countered calmly while Aramis, Porthos and D'Artagnan sent their best death glares Rochefort's way.

'Recent history suggests otherwise,' Rochefort sneered. 'Have you already forgotten that Tréville has been stripped of his captaincy?' Rochefort spat.

'I'm sure **you** had a role in that,' spat D'Artagnan, completely forgetting where he was and having to be restrained by Porthos.

Louis couldn't help but watch the exchange in front of him with great interest. Rochefort with his outward passion for justice and the Queen's safety but it didn't compare to the calm confidence of Athos whose didn't seem rile easily and wasn't rising to Rochefort's bait. In contrast D'Artagnan looked ready to kill. Actually, Louis had momentarily forgotten that he had stripped Tréville of his captaincy and was now regretting the decision, but he also knew that after this cock-up he couldn't justify redeeming the man, yet. One thing he wouldn't stand for though was someone assuming that they knew his mind.

'Enough!' Louis shouted silencing those around him. 'The Musketeers have made mistakes but they are still my best soldiers Rochefort,' he said standing and walking down the steps to face the man.

'Sire, I am only thinking of what is best for you and France,' Rochefort said trying to swallow his anger and bowing slightly. 'I merely meant to highlight the failings of the Musketeer regiment and offer the services of the Red Guard, who I can personally vouch for.'

Louis couldn't deny that his regiment had stumbled recently with the all the mess of his own capture, although he was truly glad D'Artagnan had been with him, the mess with the Spanish General and his cypher and top it all off the release of the dangerous woman who thought she could talk to God! Yes, the Musketeers had made mistakes.

Louis suddenly turned his attention to Milady who was now situated in the corner of the room by the window and had been forgotten by everyone in the room.

'What do you think?' he asked directly making Milady jump as she never expected to be addressed. She moved forward quietly but remained a distance away from the men.

'It is not my place to say, Sire,' she curtseyed as she spoke and looked down at the floor. Even from her position she could feel Athos' glare.

'I have just asked you so it is your job to answer,' Louis responded heatedly. Milady felt herself almost draw back from the King's scolding, almost. She looked to Rochefort who was wearing a strange look between a smirk and red-blooded anger. He believed she would side with him, she was sure of it. Next she looked to Athos whose face would have looked impassive to anyone else but she knew him too well. His eyes gave him away and his look was thunderous. The other musketeers wore similar expressions but interestingly Aramis seemed to be seething the most.

'I'm sure that Rochefort can handle the situation with help of the Red Guard,' she started and instantly saw Rochefort's smirk grow wider and Athos' eyes change from anger to disappointment. She hated that look more than anything. 'However, the Musketeers are Your Majesty's personal guard and it may be prudent to use soldiers who are used to situations like this,' she continued, seeing the smirk disappear from Rochefort's face gave he a lot of satisfaction. 'They are your finest soldiers and something terrible must have happened for them to have failed to protect the Queen. The people also know how trusted these men are and it would certainly send out the wrong message if you were not to use your personal regiment to rescue the Queen. I have every faith that they will succeed in rescuing Her Majesty,' Milady finished and bowed her head sneaking a look at Athos who was looking shocked at her words. She smiled to herself at her husband's reaction. Even now, she was capable of surprising him.

Rochefort couldn't believe what he had heard. She had sided with them and now his plans were in the balance because of this woman! He would see to it that her days at the Louvre were numbered.

'You are quite correct, my dear,' Louis said with affection that made Athos' blood boil but his face remained impassive.

'Sire-.'

'No Rochefort. No more,' Louis held his hand up to silence the Comte. And Louis returned to his throne. 'I have made my decision,' everyone subconsciously held their breath as they waited for Louis' decision.

'Milady is right. The Musketeers are my best soldiers and everyone in this room knows it. No matter their failures they are the best men for the job, however, I propose a compromise,' the musketeers all looked around at each other warily at their King's words.

'This will be a joint effort by the Musketeers and the Red Guard,' everyone inwardly groaned at this announcement. 'I know about the rivalry between the two regiments and I wish to show that you are all above petty squabbles when France's future is in the balance.'

'Sire, may I volunteer to lead this campaign,' Rochefort interjected quickly, hoping that he could at least choose who would be under his command. He would do all he could to argue against the four men before him being in the rescue mission. Louis considered Rochefort closely and then spared a glance at the outwardly calm Athos and his friends who were all still yet their presence was a powerful one. Louis knew of the talk about Tréville's inseparable musketeers and could clearly see, even now, how they all stood as one. Quite the force to be reckoned with.

'I thank you for putting yourself forward Rochefort, however I believe it would be best for Athos to lead this mission.' Louis turned to Athos, 'How many me will you need Athos?'

'I would require eight musketeers, including the four of us, and four Red Guard, including Rochefort, to guard the prisoners,' Athos stated clinically.

'Twelve men seems rather a low number,' Rochefort sneered while Louis looked at Athos enquiringly.

'In a situation like this a smaller group of men will be easier to get information passed on quickly. We cannot plan ahead as we don't know what the situation will bring, so we must be able react and direct orders quickly. With too many men chaos could ensue and put Her Majesty and Captain Tréville in danger,' Athos explained calmly and decisively.

'You're right,' Louis nodded. 'Do we need to release the prisoners?'

'Again, Sire, we will do everything we can not to hand over the prisoners but Her Majesty's safety is paramount and if they were to discover that we hadn't brought the prisoners Her Majesty's life could be put in jeopardy,' Athos stated calmly and he could sense his brothers nodding beside him. Louis could plainly see the musketeers in front of him agreeing and he wasn't about to disagree.

'Rochefort ensure that the correct prisoners are taken for the exchange,' Louis agreed and Rochefort nodded, silently cursing Athos.

'Right before you go, I will make this clear. I do not want to hear of any disagreements between the Musketeers and the Red Guard. Athos is in charge and he will be obeyed. Rochefort you will make sure your men know this. If I hear they have defied an order they will be publicly flogged as I have made it quite clear that there is to be no trouble. Athos you will make sure the musketeers that you choose also know this,' Rochefort and Athos nodded in unison.

'Rochefort?' Athos asked as the Comte turned his back to leave and then turned back to face Athos. 'Would you bring yourself, the men you have chosen and the prisoners to the Musketeer garrison at first light please,' it was an order not a question but even Rochefort was glad of the level rather than commanding tone. He could not believe that **he** would have to answer to Athos!

'Of course,' Rochefort replied curtly, eager to get out of the room and smash something.

'Sire?' Athos asked as he looked to Louis who nodded. 'May I send a group of musketeers an hour or so after us with a cart so we may find and lay to rest the bodies of our fallen musketeers?' Athos couldn't know for certain that the other musketeers were dead but he knew it was likely and didn't want them left to rot in the country and not honoured in death.

'Oh, yes. Make sure they are found so they can be given proper ceremony,' Louis said quietly as he began to feel his energy levels drop from worrying about his wife. He knew he would not sleep well but he needed to rest.

The musketeers and Rochefort bowed to Louis, who wasn't looking, and left to start their preparations for the challenging day tomorrow.

* * *

'Constance told me about D'Artagnan,' Anne said with her eyes shining in amusement. 'Do you know how she first met him?'

'No, I don't actually,' Tréville replied honestly while Anne looked slightly triumphant that she knew something he didn't.

'Constance said that she was shopping in the market and,' Anne started to giggle and looked a little flushed, 'when he came out of nowhere and kissed her!'

'Well, that's an interesting introduction,' Tréville mused with amusement.

'Apparently he was being chased and decided to kiss her, thinking she was a prostitute, to ward off those chasing him!' Anne finished laughing loudly while Tréville couldn't help but burst out laughing as he tried to picture the scene. His ribs ached with every jolt but he didn't care because all he could imagine was a very annoyed looking Constance!

'She must have slapped him for that!' he said once his laughter had died down.

'She said she punched him in the stomach but he collapsed soon after so she had to get some help taking him to her house,' Anne smiled. 'She said he was wanting revenge on Athos?'

'Yes. Do you remember the spate of killings that were attributed to the Musketeer regiment?' Tréville was now aware that he could fill in the other details.

'Yes, I remember. The Musketeers have always been so loyal that I found it rather strange that anything like that would happen but Cardinal Richelieu was pushing for an inquiry,' Anne creased her forehead in thought.

'The musketeer in question was Athos.'

'Yes and he was arrested after being found at the garrison. I always thought it strange that if you would go to such lengths to tell everyone who you were, that you would be found somewhere where you could be easily found. Never made sense to me but no-one ever listens to me,' she trailed off sadly and looking down to her hands in her lap.

Tréville could hear the sadness and hint of bitterness in her voice. He personally had always regarded the Queen's opinions to be important but he also knew that many men disregarded her because she was woman. Even Louis did, often seeking Richelieu's council and now choosing Rochefort over his wife.

Tréville boldly took one of her hands that had fallen into her lap and waited for her to make eye contact before he spoke, 'I know it may not be any consolation but I have always found your opinions to be engaging and knowledgeable and quite frankly much more intelligent than most of the men that advise the King.'

'If only there were other men like you Tréville,' she said despondently.

'I know of four who think the same,' he replied smiling and saw Anne's face light up slightly as she thought of her musketeers.

'Remind what happened with Athos' situation,' she said wishing to move the conversation back to the musketeers.

'D'Artagnan's father was killed by Gaudet of the Red Guard, who was pretending to be Athos,' Tréville's face turned darker while Anne felt herself hold her breath slightly. 'D'Artagnan came to seek revenge against the man he thought had killed his father.'

'How terrible,' Anne muttered quietly.

'I wasn't there when D'Artagnan arrived at the garrison but from what I hear he made quite an entrance,' Tréville's eyes were sparkling again as he remembered Aramis' recollection of events. 'Challenged Athos to a duel to the death and wouldn't take 'No' for an answer!'

'And Athos fought him?'

'Only to put the boy in his place. I don't think Athos was ever in danger but he wanted to let the boy release his emotion as well as showing D'Artagnan that he was no match for a seasoned soldier,' Tréville wished he had seen it himself. 'But D'Artagnan wouldn't stop and ended up-'

'Fighting all three of them!' Anne chimed in. 'Constance told me,' she explained.

'Athos was arrested soon after. Porthos and Aramis somehow convinced D'Artagnan to help them clear Athos' name. Those two can be quite persuasive and in the end they managed to trap Gaudet and find the stolen uniforms proving Athos' innocence,' Tréville sighed thinking that this part of the story was over but he could see Anne trying to supress her laugh and was failing to do so.

'What?' he asked.

'Do you know how they distracted the Red Guard so they could get the evidence?' she asked playfully now sure that he didn't know what she did.

'No. What did they do?' he asked with an annoyed parent expression that made her want to laugh even more.

'D'Artagnan asked Constance to dress up as prostitute to distract the guards!' Anne was almost squealing with laughter now while Tréville was lucky that his jaw hadn't dislocated from how wide his mouth was out of shock at what he just heard.

'D'Artagnan's lucky he wasn't under my command for that but Aramis and Porthos! Mind you it worked and Constance doesn't seem to have born any ill effects,' Tréville was shaking his head at his men's actions but could only be impressed that Constance agreed and it **did** help to save Athos.

'So ironically, D'Artagnan came to Paris to kill Athos but actually ended up saving him,' Anne smiled thinking how unlikely the situation was.

'Exactly,' Tréville agreed. 'Curiously, Athos suggested that I gave D'Artagnan a chance as a cadet. I thought he was perhaps repaying the boy for his help but I soon found out that D'Artagnan was very talented with a sword. His shooting and combat needed work but no-one ever comes into the regiment without anything to work on. I placed him a group with the other cadets and thought nothing else of it.'

'So how did he become part of their group?' Anne asked.

'To be honest, I'm not really sure. As I said before many had tried and no-one succeeded. D'Artagnan was a level above the other cadets that was obvious early on. I noticed the Inseparables were keeping track of his progress but didn't think much of it,' Tréville turned to face Anne who was looking interested in everything he could tell her about those four musketeers. Her attention hadn't wavered once.

'Those three don't normally train cadets. They are excellent teachers,' he added, 'but they can overwhelm the new recruits. It is well known in the regiment that Athos is the best swordsman, Porthos is the best combat fighter and Aramis is the best marksman. After a session with them it can become clear how far you need to go to reach even half their level, let alone get anywhere them, and that can become discouraging for cadets. However, D'Artagnan certainly saw them as a challenge.'

'I noticed that D'Artagnan was often on guard duty with them. Cadets aren't normally situated in close proximity to us?' Anne questioned as she remembered D'Artagnan being present on many occasions before he received his commission.

'I have in the past allowed cadets that were ready to be commissioned a place near to the King but they always have musketeers who are responsible for the cadet's actions,' Tréville huffed slightly and smiled at his memories making Anne hope that he would indeed share them. 'Normally there are only two reasons for the Inseparables to be in my office. One, I have a mission for them. Two, I'm about to give them a bollocking for causing trouble or because I believe they were behind the trouble but often I can't prove it!' Anne was smiling now as she couldn't help imagine those three getting a 'bollocking' from their captain.

'They cause you problems?' she asked already knowing the answer.

'They cause me more paperwork than the rest of the garrison put together! You know I actually thought that when D'Artagnan was added to their group that they might not cause as much trouble as they had someone to be responsible for.'

'You were wrong?'

'Totally wrong. If anything D'Artagnan is as much of a trouble magnet as the other three! Anyway, where was I?' he asked looking at Anne.

'Reasons for them to be in your office,' she replied immediately showing how much attention she was paying.

'Ah yes. Suddenly I find the three of them in my office with no reason that I could think of so it unnerved me slightly. Next thing I know they have declared that they want to take responsibility for D'Artagnan's training. I outlined that they would be responsible for the boy and that they couldn't just abandon him if things didn't go well. They replied that he was talented hardworking and was already well on his way to becoming a musketeer.'

'So they saw his talent and wanted to help him?'

'I can only assume that they saw his raw talent but I also believe that they could see a piece of themselves in him. They all have a similar passion for justice and honour and the same passion was clearly evident in D'Artagnan. Most of the time musketeers and cadets don't really mix but they had often invited him out with them and seemed to like his personality. To be honest I don't think any of them truly know how it happened. It just did and it was meant to be. Of course it did mean putting D'Artagnan on some of the riskier missions with them but he always came back.'

'I understand he received his commission after he substituted for you in the challenge between the Musketeers and the Red Guard?'

'Yes. I had originally wanted to put D'Artagnan in but word had come that his farm in Gascony had been destroyed by Labarge.'

'Oh, how horrible...but didn't you fight Labarge?' she asked with a confused expression.

'Yes, I did. Richelieu had decided to commission him to the Red Guard as he knew none of his soldiers could stand up to my musketeers. We missed you at the event,' Tréville looked curiously at Anne who looked slightly put out.

'Cardinal Richelieu said that it would not be appropriate viewing for a woman, although I know many women went to watch,' she said disappointedly.

'Well in the end, Labarge cheated and hurt my shoulder. Thankfully Louis allowed for a substitution. My first thought was to put D'Artagnan in but I was afraid his temperament would let him down but I only had to look at the other three to know what they thought.'

'You confirmed your choice with them?' Anne asked slightly surprised that Tréville would need to confirm his choice with anybody.

'Their looks said it all. I could have chosen any one of them and they would have won but this was D'Artagnan's chance. He now was receiving no money from his farm and desperately needed his commission. I trusted them and I trusted D'Artagnan,' pride was once again filling Tréville's voice as he spoke of his men.

'It must have been a proud day for you and them,' she said smiling.

'Indeed, especially for them. Although I'm not sure how much D'Artagnan remembers of that evening as the other three got him very drunk and he was certainly sporting a hangover the next day!' Tréville chuckled and was ready for the pain that accompanied his laugh.

'I love their banter,' Anne confessed while Tréville looked at her waiting for her to elaborate. 'When they were protecting me from the assassin they occasionally forgot that I was there and their banter started. They were trying to lighten a very dark mood and they just seemed...like brothers.'

'Dare I ask what you learned?' there was a small quirk in the corner of Tréville's mouth.

'Athos is the heaviest drinker and no-one can keep up with him. Porthos cheats at cards. Aramis is a 'mother hen' when someone has an injury but doesn't like being the patient himself. D'Artagnan is certainly the 'little brother' as the others tease him a lot but as much as he protests, he rather enjoys being included in their group,' Anne finished hoping that all she said was true.

'An excellent assessment, Your Majesty,' Tréville could tell her interest in these men was truly genuine and she had obviously studied them when she had been around them. Constance had obviously helped as well but he was glad to have shared his memories and thoughts about his best musketeers and truly glad the Queen had taken an interest.

Anne smiled at the warmth of his words. Here they were in a terrible place but for a few hours she had completely forgotten about her turmoil and Tréville had treated her more like a person than a queen.

She had learnt so much about her musketeers this night and they had suddenly become more human to her and consequently even braver and stronger than before. She truly admired all of them.


	22. Chapter 22

**Hello again. Sorry the updates quite late. This chapter is shorter than the more recent one's but I didn't want to half start a scene.**

 **I hope you enjoy it. :)**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two

The musketeers couldn't get away fast enough but all were happy to get one over on Rochefort with Louis announcing that Athos was to be in charge. The idea of working with the Red Guards was not the best but they would have to manage. Athos was quiet as he thought of the four extra men he would need while D'Artagnan was trembling slightly with his concern for Constance. Porthos seemed merely angry but it was Aramis that Athos was truly worried about. The marksman was quiet and that was never a good sign.

Athos allowed D'Artagnan and Porthos to walk in front as he dropped back to walk with Aramis. He studied his friend and could see lines of worry and fear that rarely covered the marksman's face, even when in serious danger.

Athos lightly brushed Aramis' arm to indicate he wanted to talk to him and Aramis looked to his friend.

'Aramis, I know you are worried about the Queen,' Athos started quietly as they lagged behind the other two. 'But I need you to tell me honestly if you are going to be able to control your emotions and obey my orders?'

Aramis stopped walking to truly consider his friend's question. A question Athos would only ask if he was truly worried.

'Your right, my friend, I am worried. But I promise you I will not disobey you. I will keep my emotions in check and will not do anything stupid or reckless that could endanger anyone,' Aramis replied staring straight into the icy blue orbs of his brother. Athos placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently in reassurance.

'Just let me know if this is getting too much,' Athos replied with one of his more sympathetic looks.

'CONSTANCE!' came the shout that made everyone jump and turn as D'Artagnan raced towards the Dauphin's chambers and scooped her up into his arms, lifting her off the floor. His relief evident for all to see. Constance too was smiling broadly as he held her.

'Well someone's happy,' Porthos remarked grinning as Athos and Aramis caught up with slight smiles too.

D'Artagnan let go and cupped her face in his hands, 'I was sure you were with the Queen. I was so worried,' and again enveloped her in his arms, planting a kiss in her hair.

Constance finally drew away and saw the others smiling at her, well Athos' slight upward curve of the lips was as close to smiling as she had seen him.

'I was meant to but I wasn't well and Her Majesty insisted that I stay behind to rest,' Constance said rather quickly with a slight air of needing to justify why she wasn't with the Queen.

'Constance,' Aramis moved forward and rested his hand on her shoulder, 'We're glad you are safe,' he said and Constance could see his honesty shining in his eyes.

'What are you all doing back?' Constance asked confused. 'I thought you weren't meant to be back until tomorrow.'

'Aramis had a feelin' somethin' was wrong so we raced back,' Porthos said looking directly at the marksman.

Constance nodded but creased her face in confusion again,' D'Artagnan, what have you done to your eye?' she reached out to touch the bruise that was now forming around his left eye making him wince slightly.

'We were set upon by some villagers,' Athos replied in a level tone, indicating it was nothing to worry about.

'Actually, it's thanks to them we made it back when we did as we had to ride a fair bit further to find somewhere to camp that night,' D'Artagnan remembered. 'We wouldn't have got back if we hadn't had to ride on.'

Aramis was secretly thankful that they had been forced to ride on and could now be part of the Queen's rescue. Suddenly the sound of a baby crying caught everybody's attention as Marguerite appeared holding the bawling Dauphin looking distressed and harassed.

'It's no good Constance,' she sounded tired and frustrated. 'He won't calm. I don't know what else to do.'

Constance moved towards the governess and suddenly found herself smiling and Marguerite gave her a quizzical look as she took the bawling baby.

'Aramis here,' Constance strode towards the marksman.

'Constance, I really don't think-,' he was cut-off by Constance placing the crying child in his arms and Aramis wore a look of shock at his predicament. Porthos and D'Artagnan were chuckling loudly at their friend but Athos wore a worried expression.

'Sing to him. Like you did to Henry,' she smiled as Aramis glared slightly, although he was secretly thankful for this moment.

'Constance,' Marguerite started but Constance held her hand up and indicated towards Aramis who had started to sing in Spanish and was bouncing the screaming child gently in his arms.

Quickly the baby was entranced by Aramis' voice as he dangled his gift from the Queen in front of the baby who tried to catch it. The screaming was replaced by happy gurgling as Aramis sauntered into the Dauphin's chambers oblivious to all.

'See,' Constance smiled at everyone, looking very pleased with herself.

'You do know that we'll never stop teasing him about that?' D'Artagnan quipped making everybody laugh, well almost everybody.

'You two go back to the garrison and tell Gabriel, Allard, Petit and Durand that they will accompany us,' Athos ordered Porthos and D'Artagnan. 'Start getting everything ready and we'll join you when,' he paused, 'the new governess has finished,' he whispered making both men smile.

Athos entered the Dauphin's chambers to find only Aramis there, who was still singing but softly now as the baby started to lull into sleep.

'Please tell me Constance doesn't know?' he whispered harshly.

'She's aware of our feelings,' Aramis shifted uncomfortably, 'but I don't think she knows it went **that** far,' he whispered back while Athos rolled his eyes.

'Knew you were the man for the job,' Constance smiled as she re-entered the room looking directly at Aramis.

Rochefort couldn't hear what was being said but the sight of the musketeer holding the royal child spiked his anger. How dare the musketeer hold the next King of France? His beloved Anne's child. He watched through the slightly open door as Aramis lay the baby in his crib as the child fell asleep. The Queen would hear of this and knowing her child was touched by a common soldier would surely change her mind about the musketeers but there was something in how Aramis held the child. Almost as if he truly cared for him rather than just doing his duty. Rochefort's thoughts were cut short as he realised he would have to make himself scarce as Athos was moving towards the door.

'Aramis,' Athos called. 'We need to go.'

Aramis placed the sleeping baby into his crib and with a smile noticed the stuffed bear he had given to Constance for the child.

'He loves it,' Constance commented as she saw the line of Aramis' gaze and almost to illustrate the point the sleeping child moved an arm to towards the bear as he slept and Aramis placed the bear in his grip.

'Thank you, Aramis,' Constance smiled while Aramis half-bowed to her. 'If we have trouble again, I know who to call,' and she stepped on her toes to kiss his cheek before whispering, 'Bring her back safely.'

Aramis nodded and left with Athos with the latter giving the marksman a very caged look.

'I didn't ask her to do that,' Aramis stated defensively as he looked towards his friend.

'Aramis, you must keep your distance, you know that,' Athos stated forcefully.

'I know,' Aramis replied dejectedly looking downcast.

As they started walking down one of the endless staircases a voice called out, 'Athos,' and Athos turned to see his wife walking towards him. The air temperature dropped about 10 degrees as the husband and wife looked at each other coldly.

'I'll get the horses ready,' Aramis mumbled as he moved to make a swift exit but he rather thought that neither of them had heard him or noticed him start to move.

'I suppose you want me to say thank you,' Athos broke the silence.

'It would be a start,' Milady countered her eyes gleaming at his discomfort.

'Thank you for recommending us,' Athos said curtly before turning to leave.

'Don't you want to know why?' Milady called after him and Athos froze trying to keep his emotions in check. He slowly turned to face her and walked back up the few steps he had transcended.

'Why did you help us?' he asked glaring straight into his wife's face.

'Simply because the Red Guard are pathetic no matter who commands them,' she said staring straight into her husband's eyes seeing no reaction. 'Musketeers don't die easily,' she continued, 'After all I've tried and failed, especially you four,' she added smiling in victory as Athos' eyes glared back as he remembered her attempt to kill them all.

'I have to prepare,' he said to end the conversation and turned to leave.

'Oh Athos,' she called and he stopped but did not look, 'Did I ever tell you, that your still the best lover I've had?' she grinned as he stalked away he face reddening in anger and embarrassment at her statement, but he couldn't help wonder if she was telling the truth. He walked over to Aramis and mounted his horse silently.

'It went that well huh?' Aramis quipped but Athos' returning glare told him not to push it.

* * *

Anne and Tréville finally decided that it was time to settle down for the night but first they had gone through a rather embarrassing moment when they both realised they needed to relieve themselves and had no facility to do it. Renard had led them separately to another room where a bucket awaited them. Anne found it difficult to suppress her shame but it surely wasn't as shameful as soiling herself.

Once both had returned to their prison they agreed to try and sleep but both knew it would be futile. They listened to each other's breathing knowing that the other was still awake.

Tréville was finding it difficult to get comfortable with his broken ribs causing him pain and his mind was whirring about how tomorrow would unfold. He knew Athos would be able to handle the situation but Athos wouldn't be there and he hoped above anything that Rochefort was not in charge. Although he admitted to himself, it was likely that Louis would turn to Rochefort in this crisis and Tréville wasn't sure any of the other musketeers could face the King and argue their case successfully.

Anne couldn't sleep for worry and had folded her cloak to use as a pillow but in the end it was useful to mop up her silent tears. She wondered whether she would ever see her son again and whether she would see his father as well. She prayed that somehow that Aramis and his friends would be the ones to rescue her. Tréville's pride and belief in them was obvious and she was sure he was doing something similar. She had learned much about them this night but mainly she had learnt how much she respected and trusted them and knew she would have to be brave like them with all that she would have face tomorrow.

* * *

Rochefort arrived back at his office seething. Not only had the idiot king put Athos in charge, Aramis had seen fit to invade the Queen's chambers and hold the Dauphin. Rochefort started to wonder if Aramis had done this before when he had his intimate moments with Marguerite. Yes, the Dauphin was the next King of France but Aramis looked far more comfortable than he should have. As if he had done it before.

Rochefort turned and angrily swiped everything off his desk breathing heavily with his hands balled into fists. He stood unmoving in silent anger for several minutes before shaking himself and trying to calm down. They weren't supposed to be back anyway! His plan was in ruins but at least he would be allowed to travel with the rescue party. He suddenly remembered the prisoners and quickly picked up the quill and ink he would need to ask for their release.

He sat back in his chair still seething but the Queen would be rescued and she would see his concern as part of the rescue party. Then, soon after, Aramis would be gone. The Inseparables would be divided and division would surely weaken them. A smile crossed Rochefort's lips at the thought of no longer having deal with those men.

* * *

Aramis and Athos arrived back at the garrison after travelling in silence. Aramis knew when not to bait the wolf. Porthos and D'Artagnan had quickly informed Gabriel, Allard, Petit and Durand of the plan and were now getting supplies such as food and ammunition ready for tomorrow.

'We need everything ready so we can leave at first light,' Athos announced.

'I've already told Jacques to get the horses ready early and so far we've managed to get food supplies and Gabriel and Allard are checking ammunition,' D'Artagnan relayed to his friend.

'Good,' Athos replied tiredly.

'Lemay says if Joubert can make it through the night then he has a chance of survivin' but he's looks bad to be honest,' Porthos said dejectedly.

'I knew it was bad when I saw him,' Aramis agreed sadly. The musketeers paused for a moment as they reflected on the fate of their comrade.

'Let's finish off and get some sleep,' Athos started walking towards his room looking at the floor.

'He alright?' Porthos asked Aramis as Athos slipped away, shoulders rounded.

'Milady,' Aramis responded with a knowing look.

After all the preparations had been made, the musketeers made their way to their rooms, all knowing that they would barely sleep that night in anticipation of their attempt to rescue the Queen and Tréville tomorrow. Failing didn't bear thinking about.

* * *

 **A/N: I wanted to give Rochefort more suspicions about Aramis than we saw in the show. He just came to the right conclusion too easily in my opinion. :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Hi. Sorry this one took so long. Life etc. Also I struggled with this slightly as I knew what I wanted to write but I wasn't sure it was coming across ok. Thank you to everyone who still continues to read. :)  
**

 **Hope you enjoy it. :)**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three

As expected none of the musketeers slept well. Aramis was the first to rise as he made his way over to the infirmary to check on Joubert. Dr. Lemay had stayed the night and for now the brave musketeer was hanging on to his life. But only just.

Aramis sighed as he left the infirmary. Athos was right. This was going to be hard for him but he would have to keep his emotions in check especially with Rochefort accompanying them. Aramis made his way into the courtyard to find Athos sitting at their usual table with two bowls of porridge. Aramis sat opposite as Athos pushed one bowl towards his friend. Aramis stared at it for moment but was aware Athos' piercing glare was focused on him and started to eat.

'How are you feeling?' Athos broke the silence.

'Fine,' was Aramis' retort. Aramis could again feel Athos' glare and looked up. Athos clearly didn't believe him. 'Nervous,' he admitted. 'I didn't sleep well.'

'Neither did I,' Athos admitted as he tried to eat more of his porridge.

'Joubert survived the night,' Aramis quickly changed the subject. 'Dr. Lemay still says it's touch and go though.'

'Let's hope he pulls through.' They continued to eat in silence.

They became aware of footsteps as Porthos appeared looking slightly ragged, clearly he hadn't slept well either which was unusual for a man who could generally fall asleep anywhere and at any time.

'Morning,' he grumbled as he moved to get his own breakfast. He re-emerged a few minutes later with his own bowl of porridge but he was clearly struggling to eat it like the other two.

D'Artagnan trudged over and didn't bother to stifle his yawn and sat at the table with his own porridge stirring it absent-mindedly with no intention of eating.

'We need to be ready when Rochefort arrives,' Athos broke the uncomfortable silence. 'I don't want him spouting about how he was waiting for us.'

'Monsieur Athos,' Athos turned to see Jacques who tried to stifle his yawn but failed.

'Jacques,' Athos nodded.

'The horses are all saddled and ready for you,' Jacques replied.

'Thank you Jacques,' Athos managed a half-smile as the stable boy returned to the stables.

'Let's get all our stuff on the horses and find the other four,' Athos said getting up from his half-eaten breakfast. The other three quickly followed suit. They were too nervous to eat.

They went back to their rooms to retrieve their saddlebags which they had packed the night before. Aramis made a quick stop at the infirmary so top-up his medical supplies and found that Joubert's condition hadn't changed. He sighed and prayed silently for his brother to recover. When he reached the courtyard he found that everyone else was ready and they were now waiting for Rochefort and the Red Guard to arrive.

'Rochefort better hurry up or I suggest we leave without 'im,' Porthos muttered.

'Not sure that would go down well the King,' D'Artagnan flashed a cheeky grin towards his friend.

'I've got a cart ready that will follow half an hour behind us to retrieve our fallen comrades,' Athos said quietly.

'Good,' Aramis walked over a placed a hand on Athos' shoulder just to reassure him that he had done the right thing.

Gabriel, Allard, Petit and Durand were all stood by their horses looking nervous but Athos knew that he could trust these men to follow him. It was Rochefort and the Red Guards that worried him.

There was a noise at the gates as Rochefort and his three chosen Red Guards entered. The guards were pulling the reins of other horses that were carrying the tied prisoners. Athos had been expecting the prisoners to be transported in cart.

'Shall we go then,' Rochefort sneered. 'Oh, I thought it would be quicker with our prisoners riding on horseback rather than in a cart,' he had clearly understood Athos' surprise at the situation. Athos wasn't happy as the prisoners could possibly escape riding their own horses and they would have nothing to trade. On the other hand, it would be far quicker. Athos decided not to say anything and mounted his horse along with the other musketeers. They didn't have time to waste.

* * *

Queen Anne and Tréville woke as light shone into their cell. Both had managed a small amount of sleep with Tréville getting the most. He sat up and instantly felt his ribs and realised that his first instincts were correct that some of his ribs were definitely broken. He couldn't stop his gasp of pain.

'Captain?' Anne had woken earlier and had barely slept. 'Is there anything I can do?' She moved closer to him and helped him sit up for which he was grateful.

'No, Your Majesty. I'm afraid broken ribs aren't easy to sort out,' he huffed a laugh as he looked at her tired and drawn face. 'Did you get any sleep?'

'Not really,' she said quietly.

The door clunked open as Renard stood before them.

'Today's the day,' he smiled cheerfully but Anne could only glare in return. 'I'm sure you need to use the facilities so queen's first,' Renard bowed mockingly and Anne could feel her embarrassment rising but she also knew she couldn't hold it forever.

Once both Anne and Tréville were back in their cell Renard gave them a measly breakfast of an apple and some cheese each. Anne felt sick but she knew she needed to eat and once she had started eating she finished her portion quickly realising how little she had eaten recently. Tréville offered her his apple as well but she politely refused knowing that the injured man needed to keep his strength up.

'Who do you think will come for us?' Anne asked. She was resigned to the fact that her musketeers wouldn't be coming but she really had no idea what to expect.

Tréville was now sitting against the wall trying to take shallow breaths to ease the pain in his ribs.

'Honestly I don't know,' he admitted. 'My first choice can't come so maybe Gabriel will lead them.'

'But?'

'I think Rochefort may use this to bring the Red Guard into Louis' favour. The Musketeers haven't been...let's say...well received lately,' Tréville sighed heavily and Anne could see the anguish his statement had caused him.

'You don't believe in the Red Guard,' it was more of a statement than a question.

'They're fine soldiers...they're just not...the best,' he smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Silence fell as they realised that this exchange, or whatever Renard had asked for, could go perilously wrong.

'You know I prayed that Athos, Aramis, Porthos and D'Artagnan would somehow find a way to be here. Wishful thinking I suppose,' Anne said quietly.

'Let us hope the Lord heard you.'

* * *

They had been riding for an hour but Rochefort was becoming increasingly annoyed at the presence of the musketeers. They were clearly making plans that would relegate him into a supporting role when he wanted to be the person Anne saw first when she was rescued. He needed her to see how brave he was to come and rescue her.

In the distance they could see the woods and knew they would soon be closing in on their destination.

'I think it would be best if I take care of Her Majesty when we rescue her,' he voiced his opinion loudly as the musketeers turned to him.

'An' why should you do that?' Porthos asked gruffly.

'Clearly fighting will not be my strong point and that would best be left to the soldiers. I could help move Her Majesty away from danger while you take on the brutes who have done this,' Rochefort smirked slightly as he realised that he had made a good argument.

'I will consider it,' Athos stated with no hint of emotion.

The musketeers moved further forwards and Aramis brought himself level with Athos.

'You're not serious?' Aramis hissed.

'Actually, he makes a good point,' Athos turned to Aramis who shocked by his friend's statement. 'It will make sure he is out of the way. Aramis remember this is not only about you. It will be safer for everyone if Her Majesty is removed from harm while we fight.'

Aramis sighed, 'I'm being selfish aren't I?'

'You want to protect the Queen so do it in the best way you can,' Athos made sure Aramis had eye-contact with him. 'Using your deadly aim,' Athos managed to quirk a small smile and Aramis huffed with laughter. The marksman also knew that they needed to appease Rochefort because the man had the ear of the King.

Porthos and D'Artagnan had overheard their comrades' conversation and quizzical looks passed between them. Why would Aramis be so worried about who took the Queen to safety? They both shrugged and approached.

'So you're going to let him have his way?' D'Artagnan asked.

'Yes. It may shut him up,' Athos replied.

'Keeps him outta the way,' Porthos agreed.

They continued in silence for a while as they came to the edge of the treeline.

'Everyone be vigilant,' Athos barked. 'We don't want to waste time fending off attacks.'

Everyone, even the Red Guards nodded in unison and they all stayed alert. The group travelled calmly for a while as they could hear the birds singing in the trees.

'Aramis, tell me you're not going to shoot any of those birds?' D'Artagnan smiled cheekily.

'Don't worry about the birds D'Artagnan, I'm not planning on shooting any of **them** ,' he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. 'But I may shoot you if you continue to remind me of that incident.' Porthos roared with laughter as Athos snorted slightly while Aramis was grinning and raised his eyebrows as if to say 'really'. D'Artagnan shook his head grinning. He had managed to lift the mood slightly.

Rochefort who was riding behind them muttered, 'Pathetic,' but if anyone heard him they didn't acknowledge it. Rochefort knew they were coming up to the planned ambush sight and was relishing wiping the smirks of the musketeers' faces.

They travelled a bit longer but suddenly Aramis unintentionally pulled on Fidget's reins making the horse whinny in protest. The other musketeers turned to look at him and saw that all the colour had left his face.

'Aramis?' Porthos called with concern obvious in his voice.

Aramis pointed ahead, 'Crows,' he managed to croak out.

The others understood that Aramis was now regressing back to Savoy. Porthos moved back to ride alongside him and Aramis nodded that he was grateful. Rochefort watched on interestedly wondering what could have shaken a man that was normally affected by very little.

'If the bodies are close then they are either outside of the shack of the kidnappers turned back on themselves,' D'Artagnan said quietly to Athos as they soon rounded the corner and in the distance could see crows gnawing a lumps in the middle of the road and by the side of it.

Aramis swallowed harshly and started to breathe deeply to control the sickness that he now felt and try and ward of the reminders of the attack he survived alone. Porthos kept a constant eye on Aramis and was ready to catch him if need be.

As they approached the cawing of the crows became louder and the smell of blood filled their nostrils. Clearly some bodies had been moved out of the centre of the road but had been dumped out of the way with little respect. All the musketeers dismounted as did Rochefort. The Red Guards kept hold their prisoners' horses and remained mounted.

Aramis closed his eyes for a moment and was startled to see the forest in Savoy before him. A scene he thought he had managed to erase from his memory. Rochefort watched the marksman closely wondering what was going on in Aramis' head. The other musketeers seemed to understand. Actually only his three friends seemed to understand.

'Let's move the bodies onto the side of the road,' Athos said with a slight crack in his voice. The musketeers moved in unison including Aramis who was now praying under his breath with his hand clutched to his chest where his crucifix was lodged under his coat.

'Seriously, just leave them. That's what the clean-up crew is for,' Rochefort said loudly with irritation in his voice. Porthos started to charge towards Rochefort but Athos got there first and swung a right hook connecting with Rochefort's cheek bone and sending the Comte crashing to the ground.

'DON'T YOU DARE DISRESPECT OUR FALLEN BROTHERS!' Athos yelled with fury emanating from him and his icy blue eyes blazing with fire. 'YOU WILL NEVER COME CLOSE TO BEING THEIR EQUAL!'

Athos looked as if he may attack Rochefort again but Porthos and D'Artagnan moved in front of him to stop the swordsman. Athos gave Rochefort one more filthy look before he turned to start gently moving his fallen brothers' bodies off the road with the other musketeers.

Rochefort jumped to his feet and was about to start shouting when Aramis appeared in front of him shaking his head. The message was clear, 'Don't'.

Rochefort winced in pain and tried to calm his breaths as Aramis approached.

'Leave me alone!' the Comte spat at the marksman.

'Let me see,' Aramis replied calmly. 'We need to know if your cheekbone is fractured on not.' Rochefort looked at Aramis and could see no gloating in the man's eyes and sighed as he realised that Aramis was looking to help.

'Alright,' he said.

'This may hurt,' Aramis said as he started to press along Rochefort's cheekbone. Rochefort couldn't help but wince as the marksman pressed.

'It's not broken,' Aramis announced. 'But you will have a very pretty bruise,' Aramis smiled. 'If you're lucky, it will be almost as good as D'Artagnan's.' Aramis felt an elbow gently thrust into his ribs as D'Artagnan pulled level. The bruise around his eye still evident.

'The King will here of this,' Rochefort threatened.

'Bad move,' D'Artagnan said matter-of-factly.

'Unless you want to explain how you were disrespecting the King's own soldiers,' Aramis smirked. All Rochefort could do was growl.

Soon the fallen musketeers were laid out in respect at the side of the road and everyone knew they had to move on. Interestingly the prisoners had bowed their heads in respect as they passed rather than smile in victory. They were likely to be soldiers themselves to have reacted in such a way and Athos finally knew where he had seen them before. They had been with Vincent when Aramis had tricked them into thinking that baby Henry had died after Aramis fell from his horse and 'accidently' threw the baby in the water. Of course Henry was fine and Athos himself had been left holding the baby. Could Marie de Medici have been behind the Queen's kidnapping? Athos shook himself and tried to leave those thoughts behind. They still had an important job to do.

A horse suddenly bolted out of the trees and it was a familiar horse. Blaze. Tréville's stallion. Porthos quickly caught the animal's reins and soothed it. Other horses followed and were clearly the horses of the fallen musketeers. The horses were tied to the nearby trees as the following musketeers would be able to take them home to the garrison.

Porthos kept hold of Blaze's reins.

'He's coming with us,' he stated with an air of no argument.

'Why?' sneered Rochefort.

'Captain's horse,' was all that Porthos was willing to say.

They travelled for another mile before they saw the royal carriage stationed at the side of the road and they looked up and could see the shack. They had reached their destination.

* * *

Anne was bristling with nerves as she started to pace around the cell. She didn't want to wait anymore. Where were they?

'You Majesty,' Tréville said calmly. 'They will come and you will be out of here and safe.'

'You think you won't make it out of here?'

'I am dispensable. No doubt the King had instructed to save you as the top priority. As it should be.'

'I will do everything I can to make sure you are not left behind,' she knelt in front of Tréville, her eyes gleaming with tears. 'You have comforted me well, my friend.'

'I just wish I hadn't had to,' he smiled back with a genuine smile.

The door to the cell clanked open and Anne and Tréville turned to see Renard who announced, 'They're here.'

* * *

 **A/N: I was asked for a punch so I hope it was appropriate. :)**


	24. Chapter 24

**Hi. This chapter is a lot of different scenes so I hope it flows ok. Please be aware as there is a fight scene that there are descriptions of dead bodies but I don't think they are too graphic. Also there is a bit of swearing.**

 **Hope you enjoy it. :)**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Four

'They're here,' Renard announced grinning in the doorway. Anne turned away from the man and felt a tide of relief but she still knew that much could happen. Tréville too felt his worry ebb a little but he also knew how crucial the next few minutes could be.

'Soon you'll be going home, Your Majesty,' Renard turned from the room and the door was bolted again.

'It's nearly over,' Tréville said quietly. His voice was reassuring for Anne as she hoped that her ordeal would not become even worse.

'How long do you think it will take?' she asked as she moved even closer to Tréville.

'Hopefully not long. Depends on who's negotiating,' he hoped it wouldn't last much longer for both their sakes.

* * *

The musketeers and the red guards tied up the horses at the nearby treeline and the red guards kept hold of the prisoners who made no attempt to escape. Athos gathered the men together.

'They have the advantage inside the structure and on slightly higher ground. We will have to go up to the level of the shack,' he said quietly. No-one disputed this. 'We will form a single line so that we have the angles of the shack covered. It will also mean that they can't attempt to take more than one of us out with one shot.'

'What do you want us to do?' Rochefort was not happy that Athos was in charge but he knew that angering the man now would not be wise having already been punched. His eye was really starting to hurt.

'I want you and the red guards to wait half-way down the slope. I will indicate when to bring the prisoners forward. Rochefort, I want you to remain half-way down the hill so that once the Queen is released you can take her to the treeline and go back to the horses under the cover of the trees,' Athos was speaking calmly and without aggression. He didn't want any excuse from the red guards or Rochefort to defy him because of petulance. 'When we attack the red guards will be our buffer. Understood?' Everyone nodded. Rochefort was grateful that Athos had listened to him and had entrusted the Queen's safety to him. He could be alone with his Anne. Comforting her after her ordeal. She would surely warm to his touch.

'What's the formation?' Porthos asked.

'Aramis, Porthos, D'Artagnan and I will take the four places in the middle. Gabriel and Petit you will take the right. Allard and Durand you will take the left.' The musketeers nodded. 'No-one attacks without my indication and no-one else speaks. Is that clear?'

'Yes,' came the quiet reply from everyone. Athos looked at Rochefort who also nodded.

'Let's get in position,' Athos ordered.

* * *

'Renard,' Simon moved towards the scarred man. 'You need to see this.' Simon led Renard upstairs to the boarded up window where a musket was set ready to cause confusion for the escape.

'What?' Renard snapped.

'They're here,' Simon remarked.

'Obviously,' Renard retorted clearly thinking Simon had lost his mind.

'No. THEY are here,' Simon pointed through on of the slits and to his horror Renard recognised the men that they had attacked days earlier. The majority of the rescue party were musketeers and **those** musketeers were there. Renard stood transfixed as he saw Aramis among them. He felt a surge of anger towards the man and wished to charge out there and strike the man down now.

'You have to leave him,' Simon pulled Renard back reading his mind.

'But he is right there!' Renard was truly flustered.

'Remember the plan,' Simon held Renard by his shoulders. 'You will get you revenge. We will be torn apart if we try to take him now.' Renard wilted as he tried to control his anger. He hadn't expected any musketeers let alone those musketeers.

* * *

'Right. Everyone know their position? We do not attack or make any threatening moves,' Athos ordered. 'The Queen's safety is paramount so don't let emotions influence your actions,' Athos gave a quick glance to Aramis who nodded back, indicating that he understood.

The musketeers moved up the hill into position while the red guards held the prisoners half-way down the slope. Rochefort stayed with them.

The shack was on a plateau so the musketeers stayed as close to the edge as possible, trying to remain unthreatening.

Athos could feel his stomach churning as he realised that should anything go wrong, he would be to blame and his brothers would not be able to shield him from the wrath of King Louis.

* * *

Renard tried to calm himself. He hadn't expected to be face to face with Aramis and Rochefort had clearly been wrong when he assumed that the four musketeers wouldn't be there. Renard knew this could become complicated now as it was originally arranged for Rochefort just to hand the prisoners over quietly but Athos may have other ideas. He took a deep breath and looked outside the window. The musketeers were lining up with those four in the centre. All weapons for now remained in their belts making it clear that they weren't about to attack. Yet.

Renard closed his eyes and brought himself under control when a thought occurred to him.

'Simon, Boucher,' called quietly. 'You mustn't let them see you.'

'Why?' Boucher asked looking confused.

'Shit,' Simon cursed. 'They saw us when we attacked. We can't allow any link between the two attacks.'

'Exactly,' Renard agreed. 'Get the escape route open. The musketeers will surely give chase.' Simon and Boucher left to make sure they could all escape.

'Take your positions,' he declared to his other men. Two men went up to the top floor while the other three remained around him.

Renard took a deep breath and opened the door. He could see the inseparables staring directly at him He was under no illusion that they were ready to kill. Renard knew he had to play this carefully. He couldn't see Rochefort and was quietly cursing the man as he had been led to believe that this exchange would not be dangerous.

'Hand over the prisoners,' Renard declared in his most authoritative voice, although he knew that it was unlikely to sway the musketeers.

'Where are the Queen and Captain Tréville?' Athos replied calmly, his eyes set on Renard. Renard could feel their glare and a nervous shiver ran through him.

'The prisoners,' Renard demanded.

'The Queen and Captain Tréville,' Athos replied.

'How do I know you have the prisoners?' Renard spat.

'How do we know you have the Queen and the Captain?' Athos' tone and face were impassive as if he were merely making light conversation. Renard could feel his anger growing and the musketeers could see it.

Renard turned and shut the door. This was not going to plan. He had already lost enough men and clearly he was likely to lose more.

He moved over to the cell and unbolted the door.

Anne jumped as she heard the door open and Renard walked in.

'Time to go, Your Majesty,' he offered her a hand to pull her to her feet. Reluctantly she accepted.

'Captain Tréville comes with us,' she said coldly as Renard turned to leave.

'I'm afraid not,' he snapped. Anne was going to protest but Tréville got there first.

'Go Majesty. I will be fine,' he smiled to her. Anne didn't want to leave her friend behind but she knew that she must. She gave him one last look before she was led out of the room.

'Wait here,' he said with quite frustration as she was stopped with one man guarding her. Renard had always been so confident but his frustration was clear and Anne couldn't help but think that things weren't going according to plan for him.

Renard opened the door again. Athos' face was the first he saw. Impassive as ever.

'I warn you musketeers I have many men ready to kill you all,' he warned.

Anne manged to hide her scoff. He only had eight men, including himself. Suddenly she wondered whether he had reinforcements but the shack was small so she thought that unlikely.

'Show me the prisoners,' he demanded.

'Show us the Queen and Captain Tréville,' Athos countered.

Anne felt herself freeze. She knew that voice but it was impossible. They couldn't be here. Tréville had been certain that they wouldn't be back. Her mind was playing tricks on her. She was hearing what she wanted to hear.

Athos considered for moment as he took in the sight of Renard. The man was clearly angry and frustrated which made him unpredictable and dangerous. Athos knew he had to play this carefully.

'Bring up the prisoners,' he called to the red guards behind them.

There was Athos' voice again. She hadn't misheard this time. That was clearly Athos voice. Hope flooded Anne. If her musketeers were here she would surely be safe soon.

Renard watched as the bound prisoners were brought in front to the musketeers. The three men were men he had known since he was a child. Friends of his brother. Renard looked to Aramis, the man who had cost him his brother. Soon he would have his revenge but now he felt calmer. He had held up his end of the bargain that he struck with Rochefort and he hoped the Comte would keep up his end. He may soon have justice for his brother.

'The Queen,' Athos demanded.

Renard moved back and grabbed Anne by the arm and pulled her outside. She blinked as the bright sun hurt her eyes. Once her eyes had adjusted she saw them stood in a line with expressions of anger on their faces. They were flanked by musketeers that Anne didn't know by name but to be honest she didn't care about them. She only had eyes for her four and Aramis is particular.

Athos and Aramis were stood in the centre and covering the path. D'Artagnan was stood next to Athos with Porthos next to Aramis.

'Where is Captain Tréville?' Athos asked.

'He's inside,' Renard snarled. Athos caught Anne's eye and she nodded slightly. 'You can have him once we have our friends.'

Athos wanted to push for Tréville's release but he knew that getting the Queen to safety was imperative. Regretfully he nodded.

'Move,' Renard pushed her forward slightly and the prisoners started to move. Athos felt Aramis stir next to him but the marksman didn't move again.

Anne walked slowly towards her musketeers with her head held high, heading straight for the small gap between Athos and Aramis. The prisoners walked equally as slowly as they approached the shack, still with their hands bound. Athos and Aramis noticed Anne's direction and both moved slightly to the side so she could pass through.

She walked between the musketeers and found herself touching Aramis' waist to steady herself as stood behind him. She was trembling slightly and Aramis could feel it. He said nothing but knowing she was ok allowed him to finally focus on the task at hand.

BANG! BANG! Two shots were fired from the upstairs windows and everyone ducked although it quickly became clear that no-one was injured. Aramis reacted first and fired shots towards the two boarded up windows and a groan indicated he had hit at least one of the targets.

Anne cowered behind Aramis for protection as he fired towards the windows. Suddenly she felt hands on her arms pulling her down the hill. But she didn't want to go down the hill. She wanted to stay with her musketeers. She wanted to stay with Aramis. The hands were too strong as she tried to fight. He was saying something to her but she didn't care. She wanted those she could trust around her and the hands were pulling her away them.

* * *

Renard ran as fast as he could but his foot was slowing him down. The pain was excruciating but if he wanted to live he would have to bear it. The prisoners ran with him slowed by their bound hands.

'RUN!' he shouted to Simon and Boucher who had the door open ready for the escape. They started to run down the tunnel with Simon holding the lamp which was swinging violently from his arm. None of them could look back as they heard fighting behind them.

* * *

The musketeers charged towards the shack with their rapiers drawn as well as the loaded pistols they still carried. Only Aramis' pistols were spent.

'Gabriel, Petit. Go round to the right and cut them off at the back. Durand, Allard you do the same on the left,' Athos ordered and the men departed.

Athos entered the shack first and immediately struck a man with a bleeding shoulder. Aramis had hit one after all. The man collapsed quickly as D'Artagnan moved up the stairs. He first checked the left room but it was empty. As he made to enter the right room he could smell blood and a lot of it. He cautiously checked the room to find a man dead on the floor. Aramis had hit the second man as well but this time the bullet had hit the man's throat and blood had spilled everywhere.

D'Artagnan shook his head in amusement. 'How does he do it?' he muttered under his breath before turning and racing back down the stairs.

The musketeers could hear running footsteps below them.

'The cellar,' Athos shouted and made towards the wooden door at the end of the hall.

'Captain?' Porthos called.

'In here!' Tréville's voice was muffled but they realised it came from behind a bolted door.

'Go. I'll see to the Captain,' Aramis said as he pulled the bolt across and watched the other three disappear. He opened the door to find Tréville smiling in relief.

'Captain.'

'Aramis,' Tréville couldn't believe his eyes.

* * *

Anne was still pulling against the strong hands that held her. It was only when she reached the treeline that she realised that she had been taken to safety.

She turned and to her surprise she saw Rochefort holding her. His eyes alive with concern.

'It's ok, Your Majesty,' he was trying to comfort her as best he could. He was rather surprised how hard she had fought to get away from him. 'You're safe. I've got you.'

He was practically repeating the words Aramis had used that day at the Bastille but Aramis' words had calmed her and made her feel safe whereas Rochefort's had little effect. She couldn't calm herself but she did stop fighting.

Rochefort couldn't understand Anne's reaction. Why was she not comforted by him? Maybe she was still in shock. He wanted to hold her close to him as he had imagined the situation would turn out but he was afraid that in her emotional state she may reject him.

Anne took some deep breaths and finally stepped back from Rochefort, much to his disappointment.

'Forgive me Rochefort. I was in a state of panic,' she had regained her queenly mask and composure but inside she was practically screaming.

'Forgive me for being forceful Majesty. I merely wished to remove you from danger as quickly as possible,' he bowed to her but did not stop looking at her.

'You were very brave to come here,' she smiled weakly but Rochefort's heart was joyful. She thought he was brave.

Anne turned to see the carriage and beyond it the horses. She had always loved horses when she was a girl but rarely got to spend time with the animals now. She moved towards them to see if they could bring her the comfort she desperately needed.

* * *

Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan moved into the cellar where it was dark and damp. As their eyes started to adjust to the lamp-light Porthos felt a blow to his shoulder and he yelled out in pain. Athos and D'Artagnan turned to help but Porthos now had the man by the throat. The man was already sputtering in Porthos' grasp.

Athos turned and tapped D'Artagnan on the shoulder as he registered the tunnel that was obviously the escape route. Porthos had seen it too.

'Go. I can handle this,' he declared as Athos and D'Artagnan could see a light retreating away from them and they started to chase after it.

While Porthos was momentarily distracted the man kicked hard and connected with Porthos' shin making the big man buckle. The man managed to scramble away and retrieve his sword but Porthos had his rapier ready. In the dim light the swords clashed and clanged with each man unable to see the other clearly. Porthos had a greater reach and soon it told as Porthos nicked the man's thigh causing the man to groan. With movement now greatly reduced Porthos pounced and struck the man's stomach. Porthos pulled the man closer impaling him further as he watched the life drain out of his opponent's eyes. Porthos could still see a little light in the tunnel, grabbed the lamp and chased after his friends.

* * *

Aramis could see Tréville holding his side and Tréville could see the marksman looking.

'Outside,' was all Tréville said as he exited the room. 'Is the Queen safe?'

'Rochefort has taken her to safety,' Aramis responded but he was eager to see Anne for himself.

'Rochefort?'

'Louis insisted that the Musketeers and the Red Guard should work together,' Aramis sighed as Tréville made a derisive noise. 'Better together than not at all. If Rochefort had **his** way it would only be the Red Guard. We have Athos to thank for that,' he explained.

Aramis was wary at exiting but only saw the red guards outside. Tréville followed as Aramis told the red guards to wait for Athos. They made their way down the hill and towards the carriage.

* * *

Athos and D'Artagnan found themselves running down the tunnel chasing a small light in the distance. They could hear footsteps as well as their own. They were catching their prey. The tunnel was damp and humid and both men were soon struggling to breathe but both pushed on regardless.

They rounded a corner and Athos was hit in the stomach and he doubled over in a groan of pain. The man went to strike again but D'Artagnan got there first with an uppercut to the jaw. The man's head snapped back and hit the wall of the tunnel.

Footsteps started to retreat as D'Artagnan saw another man run from the scene.

'Go after him!' Athos roared and D'Artagnan obeyed.

D'Artagnan sprinted as fast as he could as the tunnel started to rise. He knew he had little time as the man would soon reach the surface.

* * *

Renard, Simon, Boucher and the prisoners arrived at the horses tethered outside the exit of the tunnel. Renard's foot was throbbing painfully and he let out a string of curses. He didn't really know how he had managed to run at all. Before he knew it Simon had thrown him onto his horse and he gripped the reins. Simon and Boucher were also mounted as they heard noises from the tunnel. The prisoners' hands now were free and they chose horses for themselves.

'We have to go,' Renard stated urgently.

'We can't leave them,' Boucher retorted in despair.

'Most of them are probably dead. We will be dead or captured if we stay,' Renard said with anger clear in his voice as he pulled on his horse's reins and started to ride away and the prisoners followed.

'He's right,' Simon said ruefully. 'They'll catch us up if they escape,' he too started to ride and with a last forlorn look Boucher followed them.

* * *

D'Artagnan kept running. He had to keep running. He was getting closer. He was sure of it.

The tunnel was getting lighter and D'Artagnan could see the exit and saw a pair of feet disappear above. He started to climb out of the tunnel and his eyes were blinded by the light. He blinked rapidly trying to clear his vision and take in his surroundings. He was surrounded by trees and could hear horses.

He quickly saw the man as he mounted his horse. D'Artagnan kept calm remembering the countless lessons he'd had with Aramis. He aimed and fired, hitting his target as the man fell from his horse with a loud thud. As D'Artagnan moved over to the man he could clearly see other tracks suggesting that other horses had been tied up here and D'Artagnan cursed quietly as he realised that they were long gone.

'Who do you work for?' D'Artagnan asked the man on the ground who was already bleeding from his mouth.

'Your mother?' he grinned back before coughing violently and spewing blood. D'Artagnan realised he had hit the man's lung.

'Who do you work for?' D'Artagnan grabbed the man's doublet as he knew time was short and they needed to know who was behind this.

'Never. Pretty boy,' the man started to cough and wheeze before falling still after a few minutes.

* * *

Athos was sat on the tunnel floor in darkness trying to control his breathing. He was only winded but the shock of the blow was still registering. He could hear running footsteps coming from the shack. His tried to get up and stumbled slightly as he found his feet. The footsteps got louder and Athos relaxed. Porthos' footsteps were recognisable anywhere.

'Porthos,' he called so he wouldn't startle the man as he rounded the corner.

'Athos,' Porthos looked concerned towards his friend. 'Are you ok?'

'Just winded.'

'Him?' Porthos nodded towards the man lying on the ground.

'Dead. D'Artagnan,' he quirked a smile at Porthos who chuckled back.

'Shall we?' Porthos started to walk further down the tunnel as Athos followed.

They reached the exit and climbed out to bright sunshine blurring their vision after being in the dark tunnel for so long. They found D'Artagnan knelt by a body and walked over.

D'Artagnan rose to greet them. 'At least four got away from the tracks. Maybe more,' he said despondently.

'Shit,' Athos muttered while Porthos muttered something inaudible but likely along the same lines. 'Are you ok?'

'I'm fine. How about you?' D'Artagnan asked with concern clear in his voice.

'Just winded. The other man is dead,' Athos replied.

'Did he say anything?' Porthos asked pointing at the man in the ground.

'Nothing that helps us,' D'Artagnan sighed.

'Great,' Athos sighed with his hands on his hips. 'I get to tell the King that we failed to capture the men responsible for kidnapping his wife.'

* * *

 **A/N: I know that was a little bit choppy but I hope it made sense. :)**


	25. Chapter 25

**Apologies for the wait in updating but it appears that writing fanfics instead of my thesis was not really that intelligent. I have to submit by the end of the month so hopefully updates will be more frequent after that. :)**

 **As for this chapter, it was written to give me a rest from my thesis and rather quickly so I apologise if there are any glaring mistakes. It's a bit of a feel good chapter I think.**

 **Warning for language as there is a little bit of cursing.**

 **I hope the wait hasn't been too long and you're still enjoying it. :)**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Five

Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan were stood surrounded by tress knowing that their only link to the Queen's kidnapping had escaped. The mood was rather depressed and Athos' breathing was still hitching slightly after the blow he had received earlier.

'I don't know about you, but I don't fancy going back down that tunnel,' D'Artagnan remarked, raising his eyebrows. Athos nodded slowly but Porthos laughed.

'Yer soft. The pair of yer,' he chuckled.

'Porthos, not all of us are as acquainted with being underground as you,' Athos responded dryly causing Porthos to smirk.

'We have to go back sooner or later,' D'Artagnan sighed. 'I think it's that way,' he pointed as the others turned their heads to look in the direction he had indicated.

'It's a plan,' Porthos shrugged while Athos and D'Artagnan started moving in the direction that had been agreed.

* * *

Gabriel, Petit, Allard and Durand waited at the back of the shack covering the only viable exit but no men came their way. Slowly Gabriel indicated that he was going to enter the shack and that the others should follow.

The men moved quietly through the shack until they found the steps that led to the cellar. They descended quietly only to find the remains of the man Porthos had killed earlier. The door to the tunnel was open and they realised that they were no longer needed.

They walked back up the steps and out of the front door, startling the red guards who lowered their weapons when they realised the musketeers weren't the enemy. They immediately saw the backs of Aramis and Tréville and followed their friends towards the carriage.

* * *

Anne was trying to calm herself as she stroked one of the horses that was currently attached the carriage. She was sure the animal could sense her distress but the horse made no attempt to push her away. Rochefort was watching her warily wondering when it would be best to try and comfort her. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her more distress. After all, this had been his plan but so far it hadn't worked out as he had hoped.

Anne startled slightly as she heard two familiar voices having a slightly heated discussion.

'Captain those ribs need looking at!' came Aramis' exasperated voice from behind the carriage.

'Aramis I don't need you to prod me,' came Tréville's rather exasperated reply.

'That doesn't change the fact that the ribs need assessing and binding!' Aramis' voice was rising slightly as Anne emerged from behind the horses.

She could now see Tréville standing at his full height in front of Aramis who was leaning his weight on his left leg, cocking his hip slightly and his hands on his hips. Aramis' face was clearly amused as though he knew he would win the argument. Anne couldn't help but admire her musketeer.

Tréville noticed Anne first and bowed while Aramis followed suit but the marksman's eyes never left her.

'I'm glad you are safe, Your Majesty,' Tréville smiled widely as Anne smiled back.

'And I you,' she took his hands in hers before he could stop her. 'I'm also glad that the musketeers that we thought wouldn't be able to come for us arrived to rescue us,' she turned to Aramis as she spoke and Aramis smiled and nodded in return.

She turned back to Trévile, 'You did say he'd want to prod you,' she smiled mischievously and Tréville couldn't help but enjoy this new personality of the Queen he had never seen before.

'Yes, I did,' he sighed resignedly as Aramis broad grin told everyone that he had won. Aramis turned to collect the equipment he would need when turned back to Anne and Tréville.

'Were you talking about us?' he asked curiously.

'Mind your own business,' Tréville retorted quickly with an amused smirk as Aramis turned to Anne.

'I'm sorry Aramis, but what was said between us in there, stays between us,' Anne smiled settling the matter as Aramis disappeared to find his supplies.

Rochefort watched the exchange with deadly eyes. Anne clearly trusted her musketeers and both men were clearly forgetting that she was worth far more than they were. He still had a truth that would hurt them. Athos in particular.

Aramis returned with water and bandages and he quickly noticed the rope marks on Anne's wrists.

Anne saw him looking, 'It's nothing really,' she said quietly.

'May I?' he asked as he reached out to look at her right wrist. She nodded as Aramis took her hand in his.

'I think it should be ok but I'd rather clean it to make sure,' he said as he retrieved the water flask. He poured the liquid onto her wrists making her hiss slightly as the water stung. He dried the scabbed the rope marks carefully and inspected her wrists again. She couldn't help but admire how he concentrated on his work.

'They don't need bandaging. Best to let the air get to them,' he smiled.

'Surely they could get infected,' Rochefort's voice startled both Anne and Aramis as they hadn't even noticed the man's presence.

'It's unlikely,' Aramis replied in an even tone.

'Surely it would be better to cover them,' Rochefort sneered back. 'To prevent infection.'

'It's alright Rochefort,' Anne interjected. 'I'm sure Aramis knows what he's doing,' she smiled pleasantly.

'The wounds have mainly scabbed therefore there is very little risk of infection, however we should be vigilant,' Aramis stated in manner that ended the argument.

'What happened to your eye Rochefort? Anne enquired.

Rochefort knew this was a good time to disgrace Athos for his actions.

'Athos punched me,' he said coolly.

'Athos?' Anne looked to Aramis for confirmation.

'Yes, he did,' the marksman confirmed while Rochefort felt a sense of triumph.

Anne paused for a moment and then asked, 'Why would Athos punch you?'

'The man clearly struggles to keep his temper in check,' Rochefort replied looking directly at Anne and ignoring Aramis. 'He will have to be punished of course.'

'Would you like to tell Her Majesty why Athos punched you?' Aramis growled making Anne flinch slightly. This was a dangerous tone that she had never heard before. Anne turned to Rochefort who quickly tried to think what to say.

'We found the attack site,' Aramis cut-in before Rochefort could answer. Anne remembered that they had turned back on themselves to go to the dreadful shack. 'We wished to move our comrades to side of the road as a sign of respect. We have a cart following to retrieve them,' he explained. 'But Rochefort disagreed.'

'I merely thought it best to keep moving. So we could get to you quicker, Your Majesty,' Rochefort replied urgently.

Anne thought quietly before responding, 'It is admirable that you wished to hasten your arrival to my aid but a few minutes to respect the dead would not have made much difference. You surely understand that the fallen were their comrades and they would wish to respect them. I'm sure no-one will mind if you say you received your injury while rescuing me,' she smiled sweetly and Rochefort nodded. How could she defend Athos like that! He also knew that he now had no choice but to follow her advice.

Aramis turned as heard footsteps approaching as Gabriel moved over to meet him.

'They didn't go out the back and we checked the shack. They must have all gone down the escape tunnel,' he said dejectedly to Aramis.

'Let's hope the others had more luck,' Aramis sighed as Gabriel moved away.

* * *

Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan trudged through the trees praying that they were indeed going in the right direction. The last thing they needed was to get lost.

'Who do you think was behind this?' D'Artagnan asked looking between Athos and Porthos for an answer.

'No idea,' Porthos replied flatly while Athos remained silent.

'Athos?' D'Artagnan asked with no reply.

'Hey, Athos. I can hear you thinking!' Porthos' booming voice knocked Athos out of his reverie.

'What?' Athos looked to his friends.

'I was just asking if you had any idea who those men might have been.' D'Artagnan raised an eyebrow checking that Athos had heard him this time.

'I don't know about the kidnappers but the men we handed over were those arrested for trying to kill Marie de Medici,' Athos replied.

'You mean the men the Cardinal framed to save face?' Porthos asked curiously as Athos nodded.

'Great,' D'Artagnan shook his head in exasperation as they emerged from the trees to find the royal carriage within eyesight.

* * *

Aramis started cleaning Tréville's wrists but was interrupted by Anne.

'Aramis?' she called.

'Yes,' he turned to look at her. She pointed in the direction of the shack and the three figures walking towards them. 'They don't look happy,' she remarked worriedly as Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan approached. Aramis silently agreed.

Porthos spoke first, answering Aramis' unasked question, 'Bastards got away,' he growled and Anne could see the disappointment in his face.

'Fucking hell,' Athos muttered under his breath while leaning against the carriage anchoring himself on his hands with his head bowed. He suddenly froze as he realised that the Queen was there.

'Apologies, Your Majesty,' he said quickly bowing. 'My language was-'

'Acceptable for the situation,' she cut across him. She noticed how awkward he looked and she had never seen Athos like this before. It amused her to see the usually unflappable man looking anything but. She could also see the others smirking out of the corner of her eye. 'Do you honestly believe that my ears are **that** delicate?' she asked smiling.

Athos huffed and a small smile appeared on his lips as he looked her. She definitely wasn't offended.

'What happened?' Aramis asked clearing the awkward silence.

'Their plan was obviously to use the escape tunnel as soon as they could. They had no intention of fighting,' Athos had regained his usual poise and persona. 'This was well planned.'

'I thought as much when they attacked on the road,' Tréville added.

'Well it still appears that the Musketeers were unable to defend the Queen,' Rochefort said pompously as everyone turned towards him with looks of disgust. 'Another failure for your regiment.'

The musketeers were about to protest when another voice cut in.

'That's hardly fair Rochefort,' Anne said using all of her regal elegance as she addressed him. Gone was the persona of a woman talking with those she knew well. Now the Queen was speaking.

'You weren't there,' she added. 'The musketeers who accompanied me killed many of the attackers and all fought to defend me with courage and honour. They gave their lives to defend me against what was a well planned and executed plot. I must wonder if my attackers had gotten their information about my transport from someone close to the palace. I am grateful to the musketeers who gave their lives to protect me but I only wish they hadn't needed to do so. To suggest that they were incompetent in their duties is disrespectful and I will hear no more about it.'

Anne was pleased to hear the stunned silence ringing in her ears. She would not have the Musketeers disgraced.

Rochefort was stunned by the Queen's outburst. He had always known that she favoured the regiment but he had assumed it was only the men standing in front of him now that she really cared about. It seemed to him that the Queen would always champion the Musketeers over the Red Guard so if he was to get rid of the rival regiment he would need conclusive evidence of their failures.

Rochefort realised that Anne was glowering at him. A look she had never given him before but for some reason he was finding her even more attractive.

'My apologies, Your Majesty,' he said and left with a bow.

The musketeers were stunned by the Queen's response to Rochefort and all were glad to have her support.

'That was impressive,' Porthos muttered while D'Artagnan nodded beside him.

'Thank you Porthos,' Anne smiled as Porthos head snapped round to look at her as if he had momentarily forgotten that she was there.

'Ummm. Errr,' Porthos stuttered as he clearly hadn't meant to say his opinion out loud.

'I think what Porthos was trying to say was, thank you for the defence of our regiment,' Tréville smirked slightly as Porthos shifted his weight from one foot to the other nervously.

'I don't like to see judgements made on misinformation,' Anne sighed. 'Though rarely anybody listens to what I have to say.'

'We listen,' D'Artagnan said smiling and Anne could see he was telling the truth.

'And you listen to us,' Aramis' eyes were shining with pride and Anne couldn't help but look into them for a little longer than necessary.

For a fleeting moment Anne wished she wasn't the Queen and could spend her time listening to the men around her and more importantly have them hear what she had to say.

* * *

Constance was watching over the Dauphin as he slept in his crib. The child had been truly distressed an hour earlier and Constance wondered if the child had a special ability to feel when he mother was in danger. He had settled now and that made Constance sigh with relief as she hoped the Queen was safe.

She heard footsteps approaching and looked up but her smile faltered when she saw who had entered the room.

'Milady,' she said stiffly.

'Madame Bonacieux,' Milady replied with her usual confidence.

'What are you doing in here?'

'I was wondering how the Dauphin was,' Milady replied silkily.

'He's fine,' Constance was almost growling now.

'Clearly. The King was driving me mad. All that pacing,' Milady stood over the crib and smiled the most genuine smile that Constance had ever see from the woman. 'Lemay had to give him a sleeping draft to calm him down.'

'I'm surprised that you fought for the musketeers to rescue the Queen,' Constance said her voice dripping with disdain for the woman and yet she was obviously curious.

'Please tell me that you're not still bearing a grudge over what happened?' Milady moved towards Constance but Constance held her ground.

'You tried to kill me and the musketeers,' Constance replied with bite in her voice.

'True,' Milady swished away and headed for the door. 'The Cardinal required me to kill the musketeers and you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. In love with the wrong person. I no longer wish to kill them and I know my presence plagues my husband every day.' Milady sighed.

Constance had expected to see triumph in this woman and yet all she saw was sadness.

'But?' Constance prompted as Milady stood still in the doorway.

Milady hadn't realised that she had stood still as long as she had. The woman before her knew the truth about her. She might as well know this.

'But...I long for the man I married and the life we could have had together,' she said sadly as she took one more brief glance towards the sleeping Dauphin and left with a swish of her skirts.

For the first time Constance felt pity for this woman. Maybe it was because Milady wasn't the only one with dreams that could never come to fruition.

* * *

'Right Captain. Let me look at those ribs,' Aramis demanded with a cheeky smile as Tréville grumbled.

'Your Majesty,' D'Artagnan appeared next to her. 'Would you like to meet our horses? I think there may be a lot of grumbling and possibly swearing,' he said nodding towards Aramis and Tréville.

Anne chuckled softly as D'Artagnan offered his arm. Anne took it as they started moving towards the horses D'Artagnan looked back and muttered with a smile, 'Give it up Captain. Aramis always wins in the end.'

'You know from experience,' she asked lightly and D'Artagnan playfully grimaced and nodded.

They arrived at the horses and Anne released D'Artagnan's arm and moved to stroke the first animal's nose. The watched D'Artagnan thoughtfully. She understood why Constance liked him but Constance, like Anne, was trapped in loveless marriages with no escape.

'This Zad. My horse,' D'Artagnan explained as he delved into his saddlebag, retrieving the apple he was looking for.

'He's lovely,' Anne stroked Zad's nose and the horse closed his eyes lazily.

'They say our horses have the same personalities as us.'

Anne tilted her head enquiringly while D'Artagnan cursed himself for saying that.

'Zad can be a bit eager for the fight. Act first, think later,' he sighed.

'And that reflects you?' Anne smiled.

'Yeah,' D'Artagnan sounded embarrassed. 'Athos keeps telling me to use my head instead of my heart,' he finished honestly.

'Good advice,' Anne chimed making it clear that she wasn't judging him.

'This is Flip,' they moved on to the next horse. 'Porthos' horse.' D'Artagnan retrieved an apple from Porthos' saddlebag.

'I rather hope he doesn't live up to his name,' Anne laughed.

'Thankfully not. Flip like Porthos is strong and powerful,' D'Artagnan fed Flip the apple and the horse nudged his shoulder in thanks. 'Unlike Porthos, he doesn't cheat at cards.' Anne giggled slightly and felt herself starting to feel truly clam and safe.

'This is Fidget and like Aramis he gets bored very easily,' Anne could see the mischievous twinkle in the young man's eyes. 'Don't you,' he said to the horse.

D'Artagnan moved to give Anne the apple but Fidget tried to grasp it. D'Artagnan was too quick and handed it to Anne. Anne held out the apple and Fidget took it and huffed into her hair making her giggle.

'So this must be Athos' horse,' she said as they moved to last horse in the line.

'Yep, this is Roger. Disciplined, calm but fiery when he needs to be.' Anne thought that was a particularly good description of Athos as she handed Roger the apple that D'Artagnan handed to her.

Anne became aware of Aramis talking to D'Artagnan.

'One grumpy Captain later,' Aramis smiled as he placed the bandages back in his saddlebag and moved towards D'Artagnan. He stopped for moment to look at Anne than felt a prod in his back and stumbled slightly.

Aramis turned to his horse, 'You choose your moments to show affection don't you?' The horse whinnied in reply. Anne couldn't stifle her laughter as Aramis scratched Fidget's chin. The horse clearly adoring the action.

'He used to send me flying,' Aramis explained. 'Until he realised that wasn't very affectionate.' He laughed quietly. 'Didn't you?' he addressed the horse.

'Time to go!' Athos called and Anne started to make her way towards the carriage with Aramis and D'Artagnan.

Rochefort watched at the ease Anne showed with the musketeers. He was truly annoyed that she had not come to him when he had rescued her. These musketeers were far closer to his beloved Anne than he originally thought.

'Your Majesty?' he enquired.

'Hmm?' she paused and turned to look at him.

'I think it may be best if you were accompanied in the carriage,' he was hoping that he would now get some privacy with her.

'I think you may be right,' she smiled at him before turning towards the musketeers.

She could see Tréville and Aramis talking about whether the Captain should ride. Aramis clearly felt it wasn't a good idea.

She approached them and cleared her throat as both men turned to her.

'I do not wish to ride in the carriage alone. Would you accompany me Captain? Please?' she asked as Tréville looked resigned and Aramis looked rather smug.

'It will be my honour, Your Majesty,' he bowed and walked with her to the carriage. Rochefort couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. She should have taken the invitation to be alone with him. He shook his head and mounted his horse, still disbelieving.

* * *

It took an hour or so to clear the forest and thankfully the following musketeers had retrieved the bodies of their comrades from the road. Their friends would soon be laid to rest with the other fallen members of the regiment over the years.

Through it all Anne had tried to keep her composure but it was clearly slipping as Tréville had asked frequently if she was alright. She wasn't even sure if she had answered him. She was exhausted but her nerves were keeping her on edge and stopping her from sleeping. She managed to eat a few scraps but she really had no appetite even though she had barely eaten anything.

Ten minutes after they had exited the trees she couldn't take it anymore.

'STOP! STOP!' she shouted, actually she was practically screaming.

'Stop the carriage!' Tréville shouted leaning out of the window as Durand pulled on the reins.

She had to get out. The carriage was slowing but before it stopped she opened the door and jumped down to the ground. She moved to the edge of the road bent double and breathing heavily. She could hear shouts all around her but she couldn't distinguish what they were saying, nor did she care. She was breathing rapidly.

As the Queen jumped from the carriage Rochefort, Athos and Aramis leaped from their horses. Rochefort moved towards Anne as quickly as possible but cursed as Aramis arrived first.

'Your Majesty?' Aramis asked tentatively. He reached out but knew he probably shouldn't touch her.

Anne heard the familiar calm of the voice speaking to her. She turned towards him. Everything felt as though time was moving slowly. She felt herself lose her balance and grabbed Aramis' left arm with her right hand. She looked up to his eyes and felt herself calm. His right hand touched her left shoulder to balance her.

'It's alright. You're safe. I've got you,' Aramis was using the words Rochefort had used just hours earlier but this time Aramis' smooth voice and warm eyes calmed her. 'Try to breathe deeply,' he was speaking again. She obeyed as her breaths finally slowed down and became deeper.

Athos must have said something as Anne heard Aramis explain, 'Panic attack,' to the swordsman.

'We need to move,' she heard Athos reply.

'Forgive me, Athos. I will be ready in a moment,' she said looking up at him but she saw a softer expression from the man that rarely had any expression at all.

'Take you time, Majesty,' he said comfortingly and she looked to Aramis who nodded.

'It was just too claustrophobic,' she blurted out. 'I know it's safer but I just...' her heavy breathing started again.

She didn't see Aramis and Athos exchange concerned looks.

'Your Majesty,' it was Aramis, 'Would you feel better riding with me until we reach the outskirts of Paris? It will be safer for you in the carriage after that.'

Anne looked from Aramis to Athos, who didn't seem to reject the idea and looked back to Aramis and could see he was waiting for a reply.

'Would you mind?' she asked weakly.

'Of course not,' he smiled in return. She felt her heart warm at his smile and she no longer felt panicked.

He guided her towards Fidget who was being held still be D'Artagnan. Aramis mounted and Porthos and Athos appeared at her side.

'This may not be very elegant, Your Majesty,' Porthos was half-grinning at his statement and she smiled backed.

'Elegance is the least of my worries right now,' she responded huffing a laugh, briefly looking at her torn and dirty dress. Athos and Porthos helped to lift her up as Aramis managed to seat her on his saddle.

'Fidget, behave,' D'Artagnan warned the horse and Anne looked down amused. Aramis' arms encircled her as he took hold of the reins.

'D'Artagnan fancies himself as a horse whisperer,' Aramis quipped from behind her.

'No,' D'Artagnan corrected with fake exasperation. 'Just a former farmer who is used to communicating with animals,' he grinned back as he moved to mount his own horse.

They started to move again when Aramis noticed that Tréville was riding his own horse.

'Captain. I thought I said riding was a bad idea,' Aramis raised his eyebrows slightly.

'With all respect, I'm not riding in that thing,' he indicated the carriage by jabbing his thumb behind him, 'alone.'

Anne felt Aramis chuckle. She could feel his body heat and how his arms touched her sides as he controlled the reins. She felt calmer than she had all day. She could smell Aramis' scent of leather, gunpowder and sweat. When did sweat become attractive? She had always known men who wore perfumes and smelled of flowers and could never begin to think of smelling sweaty. They were men that couldn't defend her. The musketeers could.

She felt her eyes starting to droop as her exhaustion took hold. Surely she couldn't fall asleep here on a moving horse. She wanted to lean back on Aramis and fall asleep with his warmth around her. She was sure he wouldn't mind. She didn't care that she was the Queen and it would be seen as improper. She was tired.

She couldn't help herself as she leant back on him. She shifted so that her head rested in the crook of Aramis' neck. She was safe now. The last thing she felt was Aramis pulling her cloak around her as she fell asleep on his shoulder.

Aramis looked up sheepishly as the Queen nestled into his neck and her hand moved across his chest to grip the edge of his doublet. Porthos and D'Artagnan were grinning broadly and even Athos' had a small quirk of his mouth with his eyes were twinkling. Tréville was also smiling but Rochefort had a face like thunder.

'That is highly inappropriate,' Rochefort growled as he drew level with Tréville.

'Give over Rochefort,' Tréville snapped back. 'She's exhausted. She barely slept in Dreux and she didn't sleep last night. She finally feels safe. Besides she isn't the first and she certainly won't be the last woman to fall asleep on that shoulder.'

 _'That's what you think,'_ Rochefort thought.

'That's a rather a comfortable shoulder,' Athos voice startled Rochefort slightly. He raised his eyebrows at the swordsman. 'Believe me, when you're injured in the middle of nowhere that is a very comfortable pillow.'

They continued to travel conversing quietly so as not to disturb their sleeping Queen.

* * *

Anne blinked her eyes open. She could hear Aramis calling, 'Your Majesty,' he nudged her slightly as she looked around and saw Paris in the distance. It was starting to get dark

'How long have I been asleep?' she turned to Aramis.

'A while,' he smiled back. She turned to see Porthos smiling up at her, ready to help her down from the horse.

She placed her hands on his shoulders and he lifted her down but her legs had gone to sleep and she collapsed slightly but Porthos held his grip and kept her upright. She nodded her thanks as she tried to get the blood flowing though her legs again.

'Shake yer legs,' Porthos said as held her arm. She looked up at him curiously. 'Shake yer legs,' he kicked his legs out to demonstrate. 'Gets the blood flowing,' he smiled.

She kicked her legs out slightly and felt the blood returning and her legs feeling stronger and she smiled up at him.

Athos held his hand out for support as she climbed into the carriage. She was surprised to find Tréville already seated.

'You don't have to stay Captain, if you prefer to ride,' she said quietly.

'Actually Your Majesty, I think I do need to stay. Aramis was right,' he said with slight annoyance. 'Riding was not the best thing to do with my ribs,' he smiled sheepishly and she huffed a laugh.

Anne knew she would be home soon.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope this didn't stray too much from the story. I needed a bit of comfort myself. :)**


	26. Chapter 26

**Hello. Thank you to everyone one who continues to read this story. I hope you enjoy the new chapter. :)**

* * *

Chapter Twenty Six

Soon the gates of the palace were upon them as Athos moved inside quickly to inform the King of their return Anne took her time climbing out of the carriage. She was back in a familiar place and yet it was a lonely place as well. She had to see her son for he was the most important thing in the world to her.

'Anne! Anne!' Louis was rushing towards her faster than she's ever seen him move. Thankfully he slowed as he reached her but she still felt the force of his body hitting hers as he embraced her in a tight hug. If only he showed that he cared when she wasn't in danger. She hugged back pressing herself to him.

'Are you ok?' the King asked worriedly.

'Thanks to our musketeers,' Anne nodded. 'I'm just a bit tired.'

'Tréville. I demand to know how this happened. How could you fail me again?' Louis all but shouted towards the former captain. Nobody saw Rochefort smirk.

'Louis that's unfair,' Anne's voice caught him by surprise.

'They were a very well organised group of men,' Tréville managed to choke out. His ribs were causing him more pain than he wished to admit.

'They got away, didn't they?' Louis asked petulantly.

'Sire, they had an escape route that we couldn't possibly have known about,' Athos interjected. 'We killed many but yes, the main captors got away.'

'And you are supposed to be my best soldiers!' Louis exclaimed.

'Louis-' Anne started.

'No,' Louis cut her off, 'Anne they failed to protect you and I will not take this kind of failure. I'm starting to wonder if my Musketeers are really my best soldiers.'

With that statement Louis ushered Anne into the palace and Rochefort and the red guards followed. Rochefort's smirk wasn't visible to the musketeers but they all knew it was there.

Recognising their dismissal the musketeers turned to mount their horses and rode back to the garrison.

* * *

Anne didn't register where Louis was leading her until she recognised the door to her son's room. He opened the door for her and she dashed inside to see her son in the arms of his governess, Lady Marguerite.

'Oh is he well?' Anne asked as she hurried to hold her son in her arms.

'Yes, Majesty,' Marguerite handed the boy over before curtseying and stepping back.

Anne held her sleeping son close to her and let nothing interrupt her happiness. She suddenly realised that Louis was speaking to her.

'I'm sorry. What did you say?' she turned to face her husband who looked rather worried while she was beaming at holding her son again.

Louis' posture softened as he saw her delight at being reacquainted with her son.

'I was asking if you will be ok tonight.' Louis moved forward and placed his arms around her shoulders. More affection than he had shown her in a very long time.

'I'll be ok,' she said quietly turning to look at him. 'I'm so tired I think I'll fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow.'

'If you're sure,' Louis kissed her temple in affection. 'You will come to me if you need me?' he asked somewhat unsure.

'Of course,' she smiled back as he turned and left her with her son who was sleeping soundly.

Constance had been waiting for the King to leave as she came in and handed a tired looking Marguerite a tray of food. Once the tray was out of her hands Constance approached the Queen and threw caution to wind as she enveloped Anne in a hug.

Anne leaned into Constance's hug but was careful not to squash her son. Constance broke the embrace and looked down at the sleeping boy.

'He knew you were in trouble,' she said quietly. 'Was crying his eyes out.'

Anne placed her sleeping son in his cot and watched as his hand went straight to the small teddy bear he had become so fond of.

'Oh he must have tired himself out,' Anne looked soothingly into the cot.

'That he did,' Constance agreed. Marguerite got up and left room as Constance and Anne continued to watch the sleeping Dauphin.

'You know, if you ever need a new governess, I know just the man,' Constance whispered grinning and Anne raised her eyebrows.

'Who?' she asked in an amused tone.

'Aramis,' Constance giggled. 'He was good with another baby so I thought he might be able to soothe him,' she said leaning over and casually stoking the Dauphin's face. 'Worked like a charm after Aramis started singing in Spanish.'

Anne smiled as she thought how Aramis had soothed his son to sleep. The little bear that Aramis had given was truly her son's favourite but she couldn't help but feel sad that Aramis could never truly be with his son.

'Your Majesty?' Constance looked concerned.

'Sorry,' Anne sighed.

'I think you need some sleep,' Constance smiled warmly as Anne started to feel exhaustion overcoming her again.

Marguerite returned and Constance led Anne to her chambers.

* * *

The musketeers arrived at the garrison after a silent ride from the palace. Tréville's breathing was noisy but no-one commented on the fact. Athos too was struggling although he had hoped his discomfort wasn't obvious, one look at Aramis told him that the marksman had noticed.

They all dismounted and helped Tréville down from his horse. Porthos and D'Artagnan helped their captain up the stairs to his office and quarters while Aramis disappeared.

'The King's angry,' Tréville huffed. 'Hopefully, he'll calm down and realise that there wasn't much we could have done.'

A disbelieving 'Humf' from Athos was silently agreed to by the others in the room.

The door swung open and Aramis entered holding a mortar and pestle as he prepared a pain relief draft.

'I'm ok Aramis,' Tréville tried but soon backed down when Aramis smirked back. Athos silently left the room.

'Here,' Aramis ordered in his best authoritative voice. A voice that meant nobody argued with him. It was usually reserved for his injured brothers but Tréville had been on the receiving end before. 'Get some rest, Captain,' the marksman said after Tréville downed the concoction.

The musketeers left their captain in peace.

* * *

Athos sat on his bed trying to ease his breathing. The blow to the chest had been hard and he suspected he may have bruised some ribs. He ran his hand across the back of his head and felt a small lump forming. He must have hit his head slightly when he received the blow.

A knock came at the door but Athos didn't bother to reply as the door opened. As he had suspected the man standing in the doorway was Aramis.

'What if I wasn't decent?' Athos scolded the intruder but Aramis laughed.

'Then it wouldn't be anything I hadn't seen before,' the marksman chimed before furrowing his brow when he saw Athos' hand on the back of his head. 'Did you hit your head as well?'

Aramis didn't wait for an answer and pulled Athos' hand away and so he could feel the swelling on his friend's head.

'Why didn't you say you hit your head?' Aramis chastised his brother.

'Because I didn't realise I had,' Athos shot back. 'The pain from my ribs and my breathing was my main focus,' Athos' demeanour softened a bit.

'You weren't knocked out?' Aramis asked as Athos shook his head slightly in reply but soon regretted it. 'Do you feel sick?'

'No.'

'I think your head will be fine,' Aramis said quietly. 'Right. Shirt off,' he demanded. Athos glared back at the amused look on his friend's face but eventually conceded. There was no point in arguing with Aramis when he was like this.

'Some bruising,' Aramis mused as he checked Athos' ribs. 'Can you breathe properly?'

'Yes. It just hurts a bit,' Athos replied.

'Nothings broken but this will help with the pain,' Aramis held out a pain relief draft.

'Will he live?' Porthos opened the door to see Athos and Aramis before him.

'Unfortunately,' Aramis quipped smirking. Athos was quick enough to slap the marksman on the arm in response and he heard D'Artagnan laugh in the doorway.

'He seems fine to me,' the young man quipped before Athos shot him his best death glare.

'Let's leave Mr. Grumpy in peace,' Aramis quipped before adding, 'you know where I am,' looking seriously at Athos who nodded slightly.

* * *

Rochefort was fuming as he sat in his office. How could she choose the musketeers over him? His plan hadn't worked but he couldn't understand why his love hadn't come to him. Did she not love him after all?

No, she did love him. He was sure of that. She couldn't show her desire in front of the musketeers. That's why she couldn't show her love for him. That was it.

Now he knew he had to do something about those musketeers. He knew the idiot king would still favour the men, even though they had let him down again. Louis was just that stupid. He remembered his deal with Renard. As much as his part of the plan hadn't worked as he had hoped he could still be rid of Aramis. In turn Aramis' demise would cause the others to break. Rochefort smiled at the thought of the musketeers gone and out of his hair.

He would wait a couple of days before sending Aramis to Épernon on an innocent mission. A mission that nobody would suspect would lead to his death.

* * *

The musketeers were summoned to the palace after a few days of milling about at the garrison. They entered the throne room to see Louis, Anne and Rochefort there. They bowed and waited to be instructed as to why their presence was required.

'On Thursday, there will be a hunt for my guests,' Louis informed them. They all suddenly remembered that Louis had organised a few days of revelry with many nobleman across the country visiting Paris. 'I will need a Musketeer escort for the hunt and for the garden party on Friday. Where is Tréville?' Louis asked suddenly realising the man's absence.

'He is still recovering, Sire,' Aramis informed the King who looked uneasy as he remembered that Tréville had been injured.

'Well I want the Musketeers to be at their best. I cannot have the regiment fail me again,' the King's words stung as they realised that they had no idea how to trace the Queen's captors.

'I am sure our Musketeers will do an excellent job,' Anne smiled squeezing Louis' hand who relaxed at her touch.

The musketeers bowed and turned to leave.

'Athos,' Louis called and the musketeers turned back to face their King. 'Please tell Tréville that I wish him a speedy recovery.'

'Yes, Sire',' Athos replied and the musketeers left the room.

* * *

'Now he cares,' Porthos grumbled as they walked down the palace corridors.

'Aramis,' the musketeers turned to see Rochefort approaching them and stopped for the blonde man to catch up.

'I need you to deliver this to the Duke of Épernon,' he held out a sealed letter but Aramis didn't take it.

'Couldn't you send one of your own men?' Aramis asked politely. Rochefort knew he would have to play this well.

'The truth is...,' Rochefort looked down as if embarrassed, 'that the Duke of Épernon is a very prickly man. He will see it as a slight if I send a red guard instead of a musketeer.' Rochefort doing his best to make his performance convincing. 'Do you believe that I would ask unless I had to?!' Rochefort hoped his tactic would work.

Aramis sighed. He didn't want to go but he also knew that Rochefort telling the King how he refused to take a letter to a duke would be damaging for the regiment. He looked to his brothers and saw that they were thinking the same thing.

'Fine,' Aramis took the letter from Rochefort as the blonde man desperately tried to hide his glee and relief. 'I assume I can leave tomorrow?'

'Yes. Thank you,' Rochefort made to leave.

'I'll come wit' you,' Porthos said and Rochefort turned.

'Does it really require two musketeers to deliver a letter?' he sneered.

'It's alright, I'll go alone. Épernon is only a day's ride,' Aramis took Porthos' arm and started to steer the big man away from Rochefort, eager to get away from the evil man.

Rochefort watched and grinned in triumph. Aramis was going alone.

* * *

'Rochefort better come through on our deal!' the Duke of Épernon was raising his voice with nearly every syllable and pacing in front of the fire. 'I want that musketeer!'

'I'm sure Rochefort will come through,' Renard stated as confidently as he could. 'Clearly things didn't go as he anticipated. Those musketeers were not supposed to be part of the rescue group. I thought about trying to take Aramis there but that would have been suicidal.'

'Just because it hasn't gone his way doesn't mean he can mess up our deal!' Renard could feel the anger radiating from the Duke.

'Let's give Rochefort a few more days,' Renard suggested hesitantly. 'If the musketeer isn't here by Friday I will go to Paris and seek Rochefort out,' Renard stated as strongly as he could, trying to disguise his own worry.

Renard's words seemed to work as the Duke slumped into his chair by the fire and took a large sip of his brandy.

'Alright,' the Duke was calmer now. 'If the musketeer is not here by Friday you go and get an explanation,' the Duke turned to stare into the fire and Renard realised his dismissal.

* * *

'Maybe I should come wit' ya,' Porthos suggested for the third time that morning. He hated it when his brothers went out alone. It made him feel somewhat helpless.

'Porthos, I know how you care about me but this is starting to make me think that you question my abilities,' Aramis placed an arm around his large friend's shoulders.

Porthos deflated slightly and Aramis smirked.

'I just worry about ya,' the big man admitted. 'Besides if anyone can find trouble it's you.'

Aramis opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by D'Artagnan.

'Now he's going to say, 'I don't find trouble, it finds me.' Am I right?' the Gascon grinned as Aramis playfully scowled and Porthos chuckled.

'Be careful Aramis,' Athos appeared looking serious.

'Will you all stop worrying? I will back tomorrow,' Aramis scolded his brothers. 'I'll miss the hunt tomorrow but I'll be back for the boring garden party the day after.'

'Don't let the King hear you saying that the garden party is boring,' D'Artagnan playfully pushed Aramis so the marksman lost his balance slightly.

'Are you going to tell him?' Aramis grinned back. 'Look, if I leave now I can get to the estate, deliver the stupid letter and stop at an inn on my way back. I'll be back tomorrow, I promise.' Aramis had feeling of dread in stomach about this mission and he didn't know why but he wasn't about to admit that to the others. Porthos would never let him go if that was the case but Aramis could sense the unease of his brothers.

Aramis mounted his horse and rode out of the garrison before his brothers could try and stop him.

'He'll be fine. Won't he?' D'Artagnan's worried voice surprised both Athos and Porthos but neither could reassure the younger man as they were worried too.

* * *

Aramis continued through the French countryside, passing through small towns and villages. He decided to stop to eat and give Fidget a rest. The cheeky horse managed to steal an apple from Aramis' saddlebag while he wasn't looking. Aramis huffed a laugh but he still couldn't rid himself of the inexplicable worry in his stomach. He would be happy to get back to Paris and be bored out of his mind at the garden party.

Aramis continued in his journey and passed through a nice town with an inn that he could stay at once he had completed his delivery. He started to feel better as he approached the Duke's estate.

He dismounted at the gates. 'I'm here to deliver a letter to the Duke of Épernon,' he stated and was allowed entry. A stable boy came and took his horse and Aramis looked around at the decor. The house, actually it was more of a mansion, was rather dark and dimly lit. Aramis' edginess came to the fore again. He was led to a room where he presumed it was the Duke sat in the chair by the fire.

The Duke looked up and considered the man before him. He only knew Aramis by name and not appearance but it seemed that Renard's description had been incredibly accurate.

Aramis bowed slightly and felt his unease rise to alarming levels. There was something about the man in front of him that made him want to run. That wasn't a feeling he got very often.

'You are a musketeer?' the Duke asked he stood to survey Aramis.

'Yes sir. I have a letter for you sir,' Aramis replied politely doing his best not to make eye contact and holding out the sealed letter.

'Thank you,' the Duke took it and opened it. It was something to do with taxes but he saw the signature and seal of Rochefort and knew that this was just in case somebody else read it.

'What is you name musketeer?' the Duke was trying to restrain the glee at having his quarry in his presence.

'Aramis sir,' the marksman replied curtly, disliking the Duke more and more.

'Excellent.'

* * *

 **A/N: Should Aramis be worried? ;)**


	27. Chapter 27

**I apologise for the late update as thought I would get this done quicker but life sort of got in the way.**

 **Just as a warning we are beginning the whump and torture sequence. This chapter doesn't contain a lot but the subsequernt chapters will so this is an early warning. I will also warn on the following chapters.**

 **Hope you enjoy it. :)**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Seven

'Excellent,' the Duke turned towards Aramis and the marksman felt a shiver go down his spine. He quickly turned to see two men approaching him and grabbed the first man throwing him into a mahogany table which collapsed as under the man's weight and punched the next man in the stomach causing the man to double over in pain.

Two more men came charging through a side door and Aramis knew that their aim was to restrain him as no weapons had been pulled. He successfully dodged around one man and pushed him stumbling into the other. The Duke looked on in amusement and Aramis saw the man's smirk knowing he was trapped. More men entered but this time pistols were aimed towards him and the men did not approach closely enough for Aramis to strike any of them. Aramis had no choice but to surrender.

The marksman held his hands up in defeat and stared at the floor. He felt hands disarm him by taking his beloved pistols, the dagger from his back and finally his musketeer sword. He was forced roughly to his knees and his arms were held out to the side with a man holding each arm firmly.

The Duke approached smirking and looked over to his beaten men who were finally finding their feet after Aramis' swift dismissal of them.

'So it is true that the Musketeers are the finest soldiers in France,' the Duke said silkily but his eyes were dark and cold. 'Had I not had enough men you would have escaped no doubt.'

Aramis tried to keep calm but he had a feeling that he himself had been targeted rather than an attack on any musketeer. The fact that the Duke had only responded once he knew the marksman's name told him as much.

'Tell me Aramis,' the Duke clearly emphasised the marksman's name leaving Aramis in no doubt that he was the Duke's target. 'Why do you think you are here?'

'I thought I was here to deliver a letter but apparently not,' Aramis heard himself say before thinking he would have been better off keeping his mouth closed. The Duke smirked and considered Aramis for a moment. The men holding the musketeer had his arms held slightly above his shoulders and were pushing on his shoulder blades causing pain and the Duke could clearly see the discomfort.

'Clearly this is not about a letter,' the Duke walked in front of Aramis before stopping in line with him and towering over the musketeer. 'So, do you know why you are here?'

'I will when you inform me,' Aramis replied coolly doing his best to hide his discomfort at his forced position. The Duke nodded to one of the men behind Aramis and a boot struck Aramis in the lower part of his part back shifting his body weight forward which also pulled on his shoulders. Aramis clenched his teeth but a small groan escaped him much to the Duke's delight.

The Duke knelt in front of Aramis and Aramis looked into his eyes with a defiant stare.

'You want to know why I hate you?' the Duke asked but Aramis offered no reply. 'It isn't the Musketeers I hate, although they are as involved as you I suppose, but **you** destroyed my life.' The stood and walked away from Aramis. Aramis could see that the Duke was seething and was rapidly trying to work out what he could have done. Instead he resorted to his default mode.

'I didn't sleep with your wife did I?' Aramis quipped as though he was in a completely different situation that didn't involve a crazed Duke wanting to cause him pain. The Duke's eyes flashed with amusement at the daring cheek of the man before him but his laughter made Aramis' skin crawl.

'Very good,' the Duke sarcastically clapped. 'I'm sure you have destroyed many lives that way but sometimes I wonder how you live with yourself knowing that you killed an innocent baby,' the Duke's tone was serious and his eyes were as dark as night and Aramis could see that this man truly believed he had killed a child.

'I have never hurt let alone killed a child!' Aramis retorted angrily but he only saw a sickening smile on the man's face.

'Are you sure about that?'

'Of course I'm sure!' Aramis was nearly shouting now. As a soldier he had certainly killed but suggesting that he had killed a baby was absurd.

One of the doors opened and the Duke and Aramis turned to see who had entered. Aramis' eyes widened as Renard stood before him. The man who had kidnapped the Queen.

'YOU!' Aramis shouted and made an effort to stand but was pushed back to the floor forcibly.

'We meet again,' Renard looked down at the musketeer.

'You kidnapped the Queen!' Aramis' anger was high but he tried to calm himself as he knew that emotions were his weakness.

'I did,' Renard knelt to Aramis level taking the Duke's place but was careful not to get too close to the musketeer. 'And you murdered a defenceless child.' Renard cocked his head to the side as he spoke calmly considering Aramis before him.

Aramis schooled his features and forced himself to breathe deeply. The pain in his shoulders was starting to affect him and his arms had gone numb. His back was also aching from where he had been kicked.

'Can you tell me how I killed this poor infant as I have no recollection of it?' Aramis smiled as he spoke and could see Renard was slightly unnerved by his question and demeanour but the Duke chuffed a laugh.

'You forget killing a small baby!' the Duke exclaimed in disbelief. 'Or have you killed too many that you can't separate them!' Aramis was taken aback by the viciousness in the Duke's words. These men really believed that he had killed an innocent child.

'How about I give you a clue?' Renard had regained his composure and Aramis could see hatred in his eyes. 'It involves a river.'

Aramis thought and then it came to him. He had 'accidently' dropped baby Henry into the river to make it look as though the child had perished. Of course he would never have done anything like that and in reality only the blankets had fallen in but Marie de Medici's men had believed the ruse. The realisation must have shown on his face as Renard and the Duke smiled evil grins.

'Now he remembers,' growled the Duke.

'The baby that you threw in the river,' Renard raised an eyebrow as Aramis pulled himself up as much as he could while he was being restrained.

'I did **not** kill baby Henry,' Aramis growled. 'I was pulled from my horse and the blankets he was carried in fell into the river. I was **not** at fault.' Aramis worded his statement carefully to make sure it wasn't a lie but didn't reveal the ruse.

'Marie de Medici would have made this country great again. You destroyed all of that!' the Duke was closer to Aramis than he had been before and Aramis could practically feel the hatred. 'Instead her idiot son rules over us.'

'You mean that I stopped you from having an important role on her council no doubt,' Aramis tried to keep his voice calm but was somewhat concerned that he could no longer feel his arms. 'Plus I'm sure she would have repaid you for your loyalty.'

The Duke stood and moved over to his drinks cabinet and poured himself a large brandy. He took a sip, 'I would have been one of the most powerful men in France and this country would be great again. I hope you are proud of yourself...musketeer,' the Duke sneered the word as though it thoroughly disgusted him. The Duke turned away so Aramis turned his attention to Renard.

'So...You're clearly not a man of standing so did I ruin your life as well of are you just doing this for your master?' Aramis provoked wanting to see Renard's response.

Renard grabbed Aramis by the throat and was centimetres away from the marksman's face. Aramis could feel the man's hot breath and how he was trembling with anger. Aramis realised he must have done something else to this man. Renard let go of Aramis and pushed him backwards. This time the men holding Aramis let go and Aramis felt his back hit the floor, winding him. His arms were numb and he tried to get the circulation going by opening and clenching his fists. He sat up and rested his aching arms on his knees as Renard looked murderously at him.

'You killed my brother,' the scarred man said quietly a few moments later.

'Well if I killed him he was a bad guy,' Aramis retorted. Renard made to rush at the musketeer but the Duke pulled on his shoulder to stop him. Aramis did not like the look that was exchanged between the two men.

'You got him executed for a crime he didn't commit,' Renard growled and then Aramis saw the resemblance.

'You're Vincent's brother,' Aramis stated and Renard gave a nod. Aramis knew he was in trouble and nothing he could say would stop their hatred.

'So you understand that you have to pay for your actions?' the Duke sneered as Renard held a pistol towards Aramis and Aramis couldn't help but flinch.

'Ah not yet,' the Duke was gleeful as he stared at the musketeer. 'Let's just say that your path to God will take a while and a lot of pain.' Aramis stared back as he was forced to his feet.

The Duke moved to step away but something caught his interest and he moved back towards Aramis. He reached out and held Aramis' gift from the Queen in his hand and Aramis felt his heart jump as the Duke held his precious token.

'Very beautiful,' the Duke mused. 'No doubt a gift from a gentleman's whore of a wife,' he sneered as Aramis physically jostled at the description of his gift from Queen Anne. The Duke reached around Aramis' neck and undid the ribbon and pulled the jewelled crucifix away from the musketeer's neck.

Aramis couldn't stop the 'No' he muttered under his breath and his actions truly amused the Duke.

'It clearly means more than a devotion to God. It's too nice be around your neck,' the Duke tied the jewel around his neck as Aramis watched on helplessly. 'Besides God won't help you where you are going,' the Duke's smile was sinister and was matched by Renard and Aramis felt truly alone.

'Take him,' the Duke ordered and Aramis sprang to life. He kicked one of the men holding him in the shin with his right leg and the man released his right arm. Aramis punched the other man holding him and took the pistol in the man's belt and shot another man charging towards him. He kicked and punched as much as he could but soon he was overwhelmed. He could hear Renard telling the men not to use excessive force and not to shoot. Aramis knew that this supported what the Duke had said about his death being painful. Soon he could fight no more and once again found himself on his knees. He'd received a kick to the knee and a suffered a few punches but to be honest it was pretty much like a wrestling spar with Porthos but with more men holding him he had no chance of winning. That reminded Aramis of his brothers. The men he cared most about in the world.

Renard approached Aramis with a sinister grin and flipped the pistol he was holding and struck Aramis on the temple. Aramis knew no more as he crumpled to the ground.

* * *

Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan were sat around their usual table and were eating the chicken stew that had been prepared for the evening meal. All three men were picking at their food and there was an uncomfortable silence.

'What are we all worrying about?' D'Artagnan broke the silence and waved his arms in exasperation. 'He's fine...Isn't he?' his final question was pleading as he looked from Porthos to Athos.

The older men exchanged looks and that did nothing to appease D'Artagnan.

'I'm worried,' Porthos admitted.

'I'm always worried about Aramis,' Athos agreed.

'I shoulda gone wit' him,' Porthos stated flatly as Athos placed a hand on the big man's shoulder.

'He'll be fine,' Athos said but for once he didn't sound convincing.

'He's been on many solo missions and he's generally been fine,' D'Artagnan tried to rationalise as the other two nodded. No-one touched their stew.

They heard footsteps coming from the balcony and Tréville appeared and descended the steps wincing and holding his chest. He looked to the group and confusion registered on his face.

'Where's Aramis?' he asked. 'I'm surprised I haven't been chastised for moving and not resting.'

'You shouldn't be moving and should be resting,' Athos deadpanned back and Tréville chuckled slightly but soon noticed their sullen demeanour.

'So where is he then?' Tréville sat next to D'Artagnan who had shuffled down the bench a little to make room.

'Rochefort sent him to deliver a letter,' Porthos' tone made it clear that he wasn't happy about it.

'To whom?' Tréville asked looking at Athos.

'The Duke of Épernon,' Athos replied flatly as Tréville grimaced slightly at the name. His reaction did not go unnoticed.

'Is that bad?' D'Artagnan asked, his worry was clearly evident.

'The Duke is a prickly man,' Tréville's voice was calm and the musketeers relaxed slightly. 'He would no doubt take it as a slight if a Red Guard had delivered a letter to him.'

'That's what Rochefort said,' Athos took a sip of his wine but it was clear he wasn't convinced.

'But why specifically send Aramis?' D'Artagnan asked agitatedly.

'Aramis can charm most people so maybe Rochefort thought it best to send someone who wouldn't get on the wrong side of the Duke,' Tréville suggested.

'Or maybe he didn't want Aramis on the hunt as he is the best marksman and Rochefort doesn't want the Musketeers looking good,' Porthos suggested but it was clear he didn't believe what he had said.

'Look, Épernon isn't far and he will be back tomorrow,' Athos said making eye-contact with everyone. 'He will probably be back before us and we will wonder why we were ever worried.'

'Let's hope so,' D'Artagnan said in hope as Porthos and Tréville huffed in agreement.

* * *

'Get him out of here,' the Duke pointed at Aramis and Renard indicated for the men to carry the unconscious musketeer. He stopped Renard by clutching the man's arm. 'He must suffer but don't let him die too quickly,' he ordered.

'Oh, I intend to drag it out,' Renard grinned evilly back.

'Take the horse, then shoot it,' the Duke turned his back to Renard.

'Forgive me sir, but that seems a waste of a horse. It is a fine animal,' Renard responded.

'And it is evidence of HIM!' the Duke reminded his accomplice. 'Shoot it.' The Duke turned his back again and Renard registered his dismissal.

He walked out to find the men strapping an unconscious Aramis to his horse. Renard stroked the horse who was careful not to move too much due to his unconscious rider but clearly made his unease noticeable.

Renard mounted and six other men accompanied him, including Simon and Boucher, and they rode gently towards their destination. Even with all the jostling Aramis didn't wake up and had been unconscious for over an hour. Renard became worried that he may have injured Aramis badly and the Duke would not be satisfied that Aramis had barely suffered.

The men carried Aramis down into a cell of a small and similar shack to one that had been used to hold Queen Anne and Captain Tréville. Aramis groaned as he was placed on a straw pallet and felt his head thumping as he finally regained consciousness. His wrists were placed in manacles attached to the wall and a bucket was brought within his reach.

After a few moments Aramis blacked out again.

'Monitor him,' Renard instructed one of the men that would be acting as a guard. 'When he wakes let me know,' the man nodded as the door to the cell was closed and locked with only a small barred window in the door.

Half an hour later Aramis regained consciousness again and looked around at his surroundings, instantly feeling the pull of the chains on his wrists. His head was thumping and he was already feeling sick and he deduced that he had concussion. Renard had hit him hard. He saw the bucket in front of him and quickly drew it close as his stomach heaved. He managed to sit back against the wall but registered very little with his mind in a complete fog.

The door opened and Renard entered and Aramis wished he didn't look so pitiful. Before he could think anymore he retched again and was panting slightly. Renard had a look of concern on his face which surprised Aramis but the marksman was reminded that in this state he would pass out from any kind of torture before they really got started. For once looking as pitiful as possible might pay off.

Renard turned and took the water-skin from one of the other men and handed it to Aramis who looked at him suspiciously.

'It's not poisoned if that's what you're worried about,' the scarred man offered Aramis the water-skin again and Aramis took it. The water was fresh but Aramis was wary about drinking too much due to the state of his stomach. 'I obviously hit you too hard as you have concussion,' Renard smirked while Aramis just nodded.

Aramis felt dizzy and rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment.

'Don't worry, the fun will start tomorrow,' Renard grinned. 'No fun torturing a cripple.' Renard laughed as he left and Aramis also realised he had been given a small portion of bread and cheese but he would try and eat it later rather than risk throwing it up.

He lay down on the straw, which was again surprised that he had been given, and fell asleep. A few hours later he was woken with a shake of his shoulder and looked up into the familiar eyes of Simon.

'Where have I see you before?' he slurred slightly noticing that the concussion was still affecting him.

Simon stepped back slightly as Aramis remembered, 'You attacked us on the road,' and Simon nodded.

'You're all good fighters,' he admitted. 'Here. It's broth,' he held out a mug and Aramis took it hesitantly.

'Thanks,' he couldn't help his polite reply but Simon didn't find it amusing he just merely nodded.

'Thought it would help. You're going to need your strength,' Simon's eyes were not like Renard's and Aramis thought for a moment that he saw pity in the tall man's blue eyes. 'Just make sure you live long enough for your friends to find you,' Simon turned and left.

Aramis was stunned at the man's statement but suddenly realised that nobody would know that he was missing until tomorrow and then his brothers would have to find him. Suddenly his future seemed very bleak indeed.

* * *

 **A/N: Any pointers on how dark I should make this would be really helpful as I haven't wrtitten anything like this before. Thanks. :)  
**


	28. Chapter 28

**Warning: This chapter contains scenes of physical and emotional torture. Please be aware of this before continuing.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Musketeers rose early to make sure they were ready for their hunt with the King. Among them the three remaining Inseparables were looking withdrawn and tired. None of them had slept well during the night as they continued to worry about Aramis. Aramis had gone on solo missions before but this one truly had them all worried. Tréville wouldn't be accompanying them as he didn't wish to put himself in the King's eyeline after the recent events. He also knew that he couldn't ride well with his recovering ribs. Doctor Lemay had said that they were healing well and he didn't wish to aggravate them. This left Athos in charge and the musketeer was clearly showing the strain. With the help of Porthos and D'Artagnan they managed to get the regiment ready for the King's hunt and arrived on time although they all knew that Louis was never one for punctuality.

* * *

Aramis woke to the sound of mumbling voices but he couldn't quite decipher what was being said but he knew he recognised one of the voices. He realised his concussion had not completely abated and his thought process was slower than usual.

'Ah you're awake,' Renard crouched before Aramis. Renard grimaced as he realised Aramis' concussion was still affecting him. Aramis remembered how Renard had left him the night before and normally he would baulk at the idea of making his injuries seem worse than they were, but he knew if he could delay Renard's attack on him then his brothers might stand a chance in finding him.

Aramis groaned slightly as Renard grabbed his chin and lifted his head.

'Damn,' Renard muttered as he let go and Aramis let his chin fall to his chest as he lay on the straw. 'Get him some broth,' he said angrily as he stormed out of the cell.

Aramis now hoped that Renard would wait to hurt him but he also knew he couldn't act like this for long. Renard would surely become suspicious quickly if he let it go on too long. Aramis surveyed his cell and could see that it was fairly big but he couldn't determine if the whole of the structure was large or small. He was sure he was underground as the only light source was a small window high up the wall. Aramis managed to stagger as far as his chains would let him and was sure he saw a glimmer of grass that confirmed his theory. Currently he was wearing his leather doublet but he could feel the chill in the air. Without the straw and if they were to take his coat he knew he would be in trouble.

Aramis looked up to the high ceiling and what he saw made his stomach turn. A hook on a sturdy chain hung from the ceiling and Aramis realised that the length of the chain could be altered. He would most likely be hanging from it soon, he was sure of it. He looked further but his headache was causing problems and so far he could see no way out of the cell and no weaknesses. The cell certainly didn't hold anything that resembled a weapon.

Aramis heard footsteps approaching as he quickly sat on the straw trying to look stubborn yet pitiful. The cell door was unlocked, which was hardly necessary to lock with Aramis chained, and Simon walked in holding a mug of broth and some bread.

Simon didn't speak but placed the broth and bread next to Aramis and quickly left. Aramis swore that there was pity in the man's eyes and that unnerved him even more.

* * *

Renard stormed outside. He was angry that he had hit the musketeer so hard. Aramis clearly had concussion so his plan would have to wait. He moved around the corner to see Aramis' black stallion tied up and looking irritable. Boucher was stood close by and was raising a pistol towards the horse.

'STOP!' Renard shouted and tore the pistol away from Boucher as the men hesitated at the shout. 'What do you think you are doing?!'

'I...heard...the Duke,' Boucher stammered under Renard's glare. 'He said...to...to shoot the horse.'

'The Duke's not here,' Renard growled as Boucher started to cower under his glare. 'I'm not shooting a magnificent animal like this.' Renard moved to try and calm the horse but Fidget kept pulling on the rope before Renard finally managed to calm him. The horse clearly wasn't comfortable but Renard knew the horse would come round.

'That horse could lead any rescue party to us,' Boucher tried to get some confidence in voice but failed.

'They would have find this place first and the likelihood of that is low,' Renard responded. 'As much as it is a magnificent horse...it is only a horse. Feed it and brush with it with the others.' Renard left and made his way back into the shack.

* * *

The Musketeers organised all of the nobles who were taking part in the hunt and then they were waiting for the King. Athos was trying to put his worry aside as he realised that the regiment could do with a good showing today. Louis had become increasingly irritable with his regiment and Rochefort had certainly taken advantage as he made every error clear and slighted the regiment at every opportunity.

Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan rode next to their King while Rochefort kept close by. The other noblemen were clearly enjoying their experience but Louis seemed rather bored. This was mainly because he hadn't managed to successfully hunt much and he was becoming frustrated.

Louis looked around. He knew there was something different about the situation and he'd finally realised what it was.

'Athos?' he called.

'Yes, Your Majesty,' Athos pulled his horse alongside the King's.

'Where is Aramis?' Louis asked. He realised their relatively low haul was because his best marksman was missing. Aramis was always the 'winner' when it came to the hunt.

'He is currently on a mission,' Athos replied.

'Well what idiot sent my best marksman away before a hunt?!' Louis exclaimed loudly with his irritation showing. Porthos and D'Artagnan exchanged looks and did their best not to smile. Athos chose not to look behind him at his brothers.

'That would be me, sire,' Rochefort's voice drifted over.

'Really Rochefort!' Louis looked to the man with irritation. 'You send my best marksman away on a task when I have a hunt! No wonder we're struggling. Where did you send him? It better have been important.' Louis waited looking sternly at Rochefort waiting for the man's reply.

'Forgive me, Majesty,' Rochefort bowed his head in deference. 'He is delivering a letter but I now see that he could have done so after the hunt. It was my mistake as I hadn't thought that he would miss the hunt when I gave him the letter.' Rochefort hated grovelling and the fact he was having to do it in the presence of the musketeers made it even more unbearable.

The musketeers shared annoyed looks at Rochefort's statement. They all new that Rochefort knew that Aramis would miss the hunt and they all suspected he had done it on purpose.

'Well Rochefort, I am disappointed,' Louis said haughtily. 'How am I supposed to show off my best men when the best marksman isn't here? In future make sure that you consider the upcoming events in my schedule before sending a musketeer to deliver a letter.' Louis kicked his horse forward as the Inseparables did their best not to openly laugh at the annoyance that was clear on Rochefort's face.

Rochefort fell behind after Louis' tirade but he also knew that Aramis would no longer be a problem if Renard and the Duke kept their word.

* * *

Aramis slept some more as he finally found his headache easing. His mind was starting to become clearer but he was still aware that while the concussion was easing, it was still there. He looked around the cell again but couldn't see anything that could help him. The light coming through the window was still bright suggesting that it was still afternoon. He took a swig of water from the water-skin next to him. He could see his manacles were held firmly in the stone behind him and there was no way he would be able to pull himself free.

He leant back against the cold wall and closed his eyes. Soon his brothers would know he was missing but could they find him? Aramis smiled as he thought that they would do everything in their power to find him as he would for them.

The door was unlocked and Aramis opened his eyes to see Renard enter and Aramis felt a shiver go down his spine at the way the man was smiling at him.

'Well it seems that you're looking better but we'll do what I originally planned tomorrow,' Renard's smile was full of evil intent. 'Today we'll start softly.'

He clicked his fingers and two men that Aramis didn't recognise were suddenly upon him. The manacles were released and although Aramis knew his reactions were slowed he managed to stun them by grabbing the man on his right and throwing him into the man on his left. The men staggered and fell into Renard who cursed loudly as Aramis fled through the open door.

He had no idea where he was going but headed for a set of stairs which confirmed his suspicions of being underground. He was almost at the top when he recognised the other man that escaped them on the road to Fortier's estate. Beside him stood Simon who was frozen in place and was looking shocked to see Aramis. Boucher grabbed Aramis stopping the marksman in his tracks. Aramis knew his concussion had slowed his reactions and he was unable to release himself from Boucher's grasp.

Boucher brought Aramis close to his face and said quietly, 'There's no way out musketeer,' before pushing Aramis making the musketeer lose his balance and tumble down the stairs. Aramis felt his body being bashed on every step and when he came to a stop at the bottom he realised that he had been winded badly. His arms and legs ached along with his torso. Even with a foggy head he managed to determine that he hadn't broken anything but a few more steps and he would have been in a much worse situation.

Aramis lay mainly on his left side as he tried to catch his breath. He looked up to see Boucher standing over him, the man having made a far less eventful decent of the stairs.

'Nice try musketeer,' Boucher sneered at Aramis at his feet.

'Well done Boucher,' Renard's voice rang through the small corridor. 'I thought his concussion would make him less of a challenge. Clearly I was wrong,' Renard's foot came out of nowhere and kicked Aramis onto his back. 'I love your spirit musketeer. Let's play.'

Aramis groaned as the men that had released his manacles returned and dragged him to his feet. He tried to struggle but they were keeping a firm grip on him.

'Get his coat off,' Renard demanded as Aramis did his best to struggle Renard watched on amused at Aramis' attempts to fight back. It was clear that had Aramis been at full strength that he would have been quite a problem for them. This only made Renard smile more as he thought of ways to break him.

Once Aramis' leather coat was off Renard held a set of shackles out before him. 'I suppose you won't be a good boy and hold your hands out willingly?' Renard cocked his head to the side as he spoke giving Aramis a patronising look.

Aramis started to struggle even more and the two men holding him couldn't hold his arms still. Boucher appeared and helped the man on Aramis' left wrist hold him still. Renard approached slowly to increase suspense but Aramis could see that what little energy he had left was failing him and he wouldn't be able to stop his hands being bound.

Renard slipped the shackle onto Aramis' left wrist and closed it with a loud 'thunk'. Boucher quickly turned to Aramis right wrist and Aramis could feel the fight leaving him. Renard slid the second shackle onto the marksman's wrist and Aramis was held by the shoulders by the two men. Aramis was suddenly aware that he was breathing heavily from his exertions and his heart was pounding wildly.

'Now we're going to have some fun,' Renard smiled evilly. 'Well, I am anyway.'

Aramis became aware that the hook he had noticed earlier was being lowered and found himself being moved towards it. He did his best to struggle but he had used most of his energy in trying to escape. His arms were moved above his head and the chain between the shackles was attached to the hook. Aramis felt himself be lifted and stretched but was grateful that the balls of his feet could still reach the floor.

'Take his boots,' Renard ordered and Aramis did his best to kick but quite frankly his attempts were more like a fish flapping on land. There was no real power behind them. Aramis could feel the cold floor beneath his feet once his boots and socks were removed. His body was stretched and he knew that soon he would be agony from this alone. Renard's expression suggested he had other ideas.

'Round one,' Renard breathed into Aramis' ear and Aramis felt a sudden shiver of fear run through him.

* * *

The hunt came to an abrupt end as light rain started to fall and King Louis decided that he was bored and wanted to be warm and dry. The Musketeers rallied everyone and managed to get all the nobles taking part back to the palace. Once everyone was safe the Musketeers all returned to the garrison.

On the way back Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan shared some glances and the meaning was obvious. They all hoped that Aramis was back already and that their worry had been misplaced. It was perhaps early for him to have returned but now he was the only thing on their minds.

The Musketeers entered the garrison and the Inseparables looked directly towards their usual table but they were disappointed to see that Aramis was not there. Jacques came to take their horses and Athos decided to ask the most pressing question on his mind.

'Has Aramis returned?' he asked the stable boy hoping to keep his voice clear of worry.

'Afraid not monsieur,' Jacques replied and turned to leave with the horses.

'It's early yet,' Porthos placed one of his large hands on Athos' shoulder.

'Yeah. I thought the hunt would go on much longer,' D'Artagnan agreed.

The men turned to face each other but it was clear that they needed Aramis to return as quickly as possible.

* * *

Renard stepped away from Aramis and took something from the man behind him. He turned to face the musketeer and Aramis could see a slightly flexible cane in his hand.

'Cut the shirt,' Renard ordered and Aramis' shirt was torn from him, exposing his bare chest and back.

'That was my best shirt,' Aramis did his best to whine indignantly from his position. Renard smiled back at Aramis' ability to joke like that.

'I would offer to buy you a new one...but you won't need it,' Renard responded but was shocked to see Aramis smile back at the threat.

Aramis could already feel the damp and the cold of the cell and with his chest and feet exposed he was starting to shiver slightly which was pulling on his shoulders and his hands were already feeling numb.

'I think he's cold gentlemen,' Renard announced with glee. 'Maybe we should warm him up a little.' Before Aramis could register what was happening Renard whipped the cane at his chest and Aramis felt the pliable wood snap across him. He managed to bite down the moan of pain that had nearly escaped him.

Renard gave Aramis a sickening smile as he moved around the strung up marksman so Aramis couldn't see him. He picked his moment and hit Aramis across the small of his back and again Aramis bit down his groan. Aramis' lack of reaction amused Renard as he moved into Aramis vision again.

Aramis looked down to his chest and could see the red mark starting to emerge He realised that his skin was stinging from the blow and Renard's eyes told him that there would be more to come.

Renard hit Aramis again lower this time just above the waistband of his breeches. Aramis wondered if those would be removed as well. His shoulders were starting to ache from his position as Renard started to increase the frequency on the hits. Renard hit the sore skin on his back and chest again and again and again and Aramis finally let out a moan.

'Finally,' Renard's voice was full of glee as he grabbed Aramis chin and stared into his eyes. 'I was sure that you had lost that lovely voice of yours. Can't have that can we?'

Renard aimed another blow at Aramis knees which caused Aramis to groan loudly as his knees buckled causing his shoulders to pull at his restraints. Renard continued to attack Aramis' chest and back but he tempered the blows slightly as he watched Aramis' eyes become hazy. Aramis registered the red of his chest but the skin hadn't been broken. It was angry and red and stinging profusely and Aramis could feel that his back was the same.

Aramis was struggling to keep his head up and the headache of his concussion wasn't helping. Renard looked at Aramis and indicated to two men just outside of the cell to release Aramis. Aramis crumpled to floor with most of his weight hitting his left shoulder and hip that were already sore from falling down the stairs. He gasped at the sudden pain from hitting the hard, cold floor of the cell and was powerless to resist when the shackles were removed and he was moved over to the straw bed. The manacles attached to the wall were fitted again and Aramis could feel the chill of the cell on his body.

Renard waved the men away and crouched before Aramis and studied him. Aramis managed to stare resolutely back and for a fleeting moment thought he saw a flicker of fear in Renard's eyes.

'I have some good news and bad news for you,' Renard grinned evilly. 'The good news is that I'm bored so you can rest easy for the night. Can't have you too badly hurt for tomorrow, can we?' Renard's tone was patronising and Aramis wished he had the strength to strangle the man. 'The bad news is that do to you pathetic escape attempt I have had to shoot your horse.'

Renard left smirking at his triumph as Aramis' grief for his beloved Fidget couldn't be hidden. He loved his horse and they had been through much together. Knowing that he had caused Fidget's life to end was the most depressing fact of all and Aramis couldn't help but curl up as tears for his friend ran down his cheeks. He shivered in the dark and damp cell but the physical pain was nowhere near as bad as the emotional pain.

* * *

'So are we killing the horse then?' Boucher asked as Renard came into the make-shift kitchen.

'No, you dolt,' Renard couldn't believe how stupid the man could be.

'But you said-'

'I said that to hurt him!' Renard exclaimed. 'He doesn't know his horse is alive but it will cause him pain to think it's dead!'

'Oh,' Boucher nodded as Renard shook his head at the man's stupidity.

'Simon. What are you doing?' he asked as Simon held a tray with broth and cheese on it.

'Feeding the prisoner,' Simon replied.

'And the coat?' Renard nodded to Simon's arm where Aramis' doublet was draped.

'He won't last long if he's cold and without food,' Simon replied. 'You want to drag this out as much as I think you do then you have to give him something to keep him going.' Renard nodded reluctantly. It wasn't time to starve him, yet.

Simon moved towards the cell where Aramis was being held and the man on guard unlocked the door as Simon approached. Simon looked in to see Aramis curled up as tightly as he could, either for warmth or grieving the loss of his horse. The musketeer's body was bright red but the skin had not been torn. Aramis eyes looked up and saw Simon approaching.

Aramis watched warily as Simon placed the tray before him and helped him sit up.

'Why are you helping me?' Aramis asked with clear confusion but Simon did not answer. Instead he draped Aramis' leather doublet around the marksman and offered him the steaming broth.

'Can you hold it?' Simon asked as he gently placed the mug in Aramis' hands. Satisfied that Aramis could feed himself Simon moved to leave but Aramis grabbed his arm.

'Why?'

'Because a man like you could never kill a child,' Simon wrested his arm back and left leaving Aramis in a very confused state.

* * *

 **A/N: This was my first attempt at the 'whump' side of things and if anyone has any tips I would be grateful for them. I do have other ideas for the next chapters as well I'm just trying to judge how dark I can make it within the limit of the T rating. My mind can get a bit carried away!**


	29. Chapter 29

**Hello. I'm sorry my updates are a bit random so thank you for sticking with this. This chapter is a bit fragmneted so I hope it makes sense.**

 **Warning: There are scenes of torture. I estimate after this chapter most likely two more chapters at the most with this warning. :)**

 **Enjoy! :)**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Athos was sat at his desk in his room pouring over the maps of the Épernon area and the routes Aramis was likely to have taken. He had a bottle of wine open but he had hardly drunk any of it. He sat back in his chair with the worry for his friend ever increasing. He heard familiar footsteps approaching.

'It's open Porthos,' he called before the big man could knock. The door opened and Porthos walked in.

'How d'you know it was me?' he asked.

'Your footsteps are unique,' Athos replied without looking up as he stared at the map in front of him.

'When we leaving?' Porthos asked as he sat down in the vacant chair.

'As soon as possible. There aren't many roads that Aramis would have taken and there are enough towns that somebody should have seen him,' Athos sighed at pinched the bridge of his nose. 'We have to make sure that we aren't neglectful in leaving though.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Porthos asked looking confused. Footsteps could be heard approaching but the footfalls were lighter this time.

'Come in, D'Artagnan,' Athos said as the footsteps reached the door. The Gascon opened the door and immediately saw Porthos who smiled and the maps on Athos' desk.

'So what'd I miss?' he looked between the two.

'Athos is looking for the roads Aramis would have taken,' Porthos replied.

'The problem is with the garden party,' Athos sighed. 'We cannot leave the King and Queen without adequate protection. Not even to go after Aramis.'

'There's more than enough musketeers for that!' D'Artagnan responded loudly.

'Yes, but we are well known and Rochefort is likely to point out our absence,' Athos replied calmly.

'Who cares about Rochefort?' Porthos roared.

'The King,' Athos replied simply. 'Louis' affection is growing for the man and the Queen knows him well. He is trusted.'

'Even though he's a complete slime ball,' D'Artagnan said regretfully.

'Tell the King that,' Porthos huffed.

'Let's get some sleep,' Athos sighed. 'We will get to Aramis as soon as we are able.'

Dawn broke and Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan were up early. They were quickly sorting everything they would need when they went to look for Aramis but they all kept looking towards the garrison entrance hoping Aramis would ride through wondering what all the fuss was about.

A rider appeared at the gate and dismounted entering the garrison on foot.

'I'm looking for the musketeer Athos?' he asked.

'I am he,' Athos replied and outstretched his hand to take the letter. The messenger quickly turned and left.

Athos opened the letter.

 _Athos, Porthos, Aramis and D'Artagnan,_

 _Please come to the palace at the earliest opportunity to discuss the security arrangements for today's garden party._

 _Rochefort._

'Rochefort believes that Aramis is back,' Athos said to the others. 'We need to get to the palace but somehow I doubt he'll let us go looking for Aramis until the garden party is over.'

* * *

Aramis woke as light filtered into his cell. He was cold but thankfully his leather doublet had helped to keep him warm enough. His skin still stung from where he'd been beaten with the cane but he had also had far worse injuries. He knew his brothers would realise he was missing by now but he also remembered the garden party which they would most likely have to attend before they could search for him. That meant he would be here a fair bit longer, if they found him at all.

The cell door opened and Renard walked in.

'Ah, you're awake,' the scarred man smiled but Aramis saw only hate in his eyes. Renard nodded at the two men that had restrained Aramis the day before and they undid the manacles. Aramis tried to fight back but couldn't and quickly felt his energy leave him.

They held Aramis between them as Renard stood in front of him. Without warning Renard punched Aramis hard in the gut and Aramis let out a stifled moan. Renard then continued with a series of hits to Aramis' chest and back while the musketeer was held in place. Renard's smile was gleeful. He was enjoying this.

Aramis took a blow to the head and everything appeared to be happening in slow motion. He could still feel the hits but they weren't hurting as much as before. Renard looked into Aramis' eyes and nodded to the men holding him. They secured the manacles again and left the marksman in a daze.

Aramis was sure he heard Renard say, 'We'll be back.'

* * *

Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan arrived at the palace to see Rochefort who was looking annoyingly happy until he saw them.

'Where's Aramis?' he asked looking behind them as if the man was just lagging behind. He, of course, knew the truth long before Athos informed him.

'He hasn't' returned from Épernon,' Athos said stiffly doing his best to judge the other man's body language.

'He should be back by now!' Rochefort snapped trying to hide his glee. 'He will have to be reprimanded. After all he was only delivering a letter.'

'He could have been attacked!' Porthos roared and made towards Rochefort but Athos and D'Artagnan grabbed his shoulders to stop him.

'Careful,' Rochefort sneered. 'It's bad enough having one negligent musketeer, let alone another.'

Porthos was livid and it was only a look from Athos that stopped him attacking the blonde man.

'Right, we will need twenty musketeers including yourselves for the garden party,' Rochefort turned business-like. 'I assume that won't be a problem.'

'We want to go after Aramis,' D'Artagnan said in anger and Rochefort chuckled.

'Of course,' Rochefort said stunning the musketeers. 'The King's life is only secondary to the life of a libertine.' They all heard the sarcasm and the dig at Aramis and all three were ready to launch themselves at smirking Comte but were interrupted by the King.

'Is everything ready Rochefort?' he asked enthusiastically as everybody bowed.

'Just the final arrangements now, sire' Rochefort said silkily.

'Good, good,' Louis said happily. 'Well, carry on.' He sauntered out and now the musketeers knew they had to be at the palace instead of finding Aramis.

* * *

Aramis waited until his vision cleared before looking around his cell. He reached for the water-skin and happily drank. He pressed his ribs and discovered that at least two were cracked but they hadn't been fully broken. It hurt to breathe so he was taking shallower breaths in response. He knew that Renard would be back and wondered what the man would do to him next. He clearly wanted to him to die so these 'abuses' were sure to get worse. Renard was rather enjoying the slow torture which meant he was certain that no-one would find this place or Aramis in it. He retrieved his doublet and pulled it around himself to keep warm. His friends would be coming by now but he still couldn't shake the fact that they would be needed at the garden party. What if they weren't coming?

* * *

Athos was stood stoically on guard as the nobles wandered around the gardens snacking on the plethora of food laid out. Sweet and savoury snacks and lots of wine were on offer. Not much had happened in the last few hours although Porthos had to break up a fight between two young nobles who had had too much to drink. D'Artagnan had also had a proposition from a rather drunk young lady and was now trying to avoid any eye contact at all. Constance was currently a light shade of pink after stifling a laugh at the Gascon's expense. The King continued to parade around with Rochefort following like an obedient lap dog while Queen Anne was doing her best to mingle but Athos saw her glancing at Milady constantly. Athos also felt his eyes drawn to his wife who was wearing a rather stunning red dress and did his best to stop looking at her.

The three musketeers did their best to remain vigilant but all of their minds had turned to their missing brother. Due to their minds wandering they hadn't noticed who was approaching until the man was on top of them.

'Gentlemen,' the man beamed with his arms wide in welcome. 'I thought I might find you here.'

'Fortier,' Athos lips quirked slightly but both Porthos and D'Artagnan were beaming.

'I don't normally come to this kind of thing but I thought you might be here and I could say hello,' Fortier was full of positive energy but suddenly looked confused. 'Where's Aramis? Is he stationed somewhere else?' he asked turning to look around. The smile fell from Fortier's face when he saw the musketeers' reactions.

'He is on a mission,' Athos said simply but Fortier wasn't fooled.

'Athos, I wasn't born yesterday,' Fortier snapped. 'You are all clearly worried.' Fortier's stern look fell on D'Artagnan who eventually caved in.

'He was supposed to be back yesterday and he hasn't returned,' the youngest man said.

'He was only deliverin' a letter to Épernon,' Porthos added gruffly.

'Then I don't understand why you aren't looking for him!' Fortier was far angrier than they would have expected. Their time with the man had truly left an impression.

'Is something wrong?' Queen Anne's voice floated over as she approached. The men all bowed and she waited expectantly.

'Nothing, Your Majesty,' Fortier offered although he did seem uncomfortable in the Queen's presence.

'Where's Aramis?' she asked looking between them and settling on Athos.

'He's been delayed on a mission,' Athos said truthfully but hiding the facts. Anne looked between them and settled on Porthos. Her stare was unnerving him,

'He should have been back last evening,' he capitulated, loosening his stance.

'There's probably no reason to worry,' D'Artagnan offered. 'He's probably back at the garrison cheerfully congratulating himself on not being bored at the garden party.' D'Artagnan suddenly went pink as he realised what he said and bit his lower lip. Anne was staring at him while Athos and Porthos were doing their best not to laugh and Fortier ducked his head to hide his smile. 'What...I meant...was...er'

D'Artagnan stopped his apology as the Queen moved closer to him with a rather large smile on her face. 'Yes, I can imagine that men of action like all of you would find this boring,' she smiled and D'Artagnan went even pinker. 'I am rather surprised that you aren't looking for him.'

'That was what I said,' the Comte de Fortier blushed as he realised he had spoken of turn. Anne smiled and said nothing and moved her look towards Athos.

'We have been reminded that our first duty is to the King,' Athos said without emotion.

'Who said this?' Anne kept her focus on Athos who was starting to look uncomfortable. 'Athos?'

'Rochefort,' answered quietly and Anne moved her gaze to the ground in thought. She could feel the tension around her and knew these men were clearly worried about Aramis and she was too.

'Well,' she suddenly changed her demeanour of that of the Queen. 'I am relieving the three of you of your duty here. You are to return to the garrison and if you do find Aramis there then I ask to return to your stations here. If not, you are to send three replacements. If anyone questions you, you have my authority to leave and they can discuss any problems with me. Is that clear?'

'Thank you, Majesty,' the three musketeers answered and bowed as one looking thoroughly relieved. Porthos and D'Artagnan moved quickly to leave the garden while Athos paused for a moment to nod to the Queen who offered a small nod in return. Athos then moved quickly after his brothers.

Queen Anne turned to Fortier who clearly had no idea what he was supposed to do next.

'Forgive me,' she smiled. 'You are?'

'The Comte de Fortier, Majesty,' he bowed realising that he was going slightly pink.

'How do you know the musketeers?' she asked kindly as she motioned that he should walk with her as she walked towards Constance who currently trapped by a young nobleman.

'They delivered some gifts and well I got a bit attached,' he mumbled.

'They are easy to get attached to,' Anne smiled. 'Constance,' she called when she was in range and Constance quickly escaped from the man looking relieved. 'I have been lucky enough to know them well but mainly because I have needed them to save my life.'

'Yes, they did tell me of some of their adventures,' Fortier replied feeling calmer as Constance joined them.

'Tell me about what happened when they stayed with you,' Anne smiled curious to know everything she could about her musketeers.

* * *

The musketeers raced back to garrison and still entered in hope that Aramis would be smiling back at them from their table. Alas, he wasn't and Athos soon confirmed with Jacques that Aramis hadn't returned.

'Why are you back so early?' Tréville asked from the balcony.

'The Queen gave us permission to leave,' Athos stated as Tréville looked confused. 'To find Aramis,' he clarified.

'Find him, Athos,' was all Tréville said as he walked back into the office that wouldn't be his for much longer.

Soon the musketeers were on their way taking care to watch out for anything strange on the road. They knew they wouldn't make Épernon by nightfall but there were damn well going to get as close as they could. They had to find their missing brother.

* * *

Aramis was visited again by Renard a few hours later. He braced himself but couldn't see what Renard wanted. He watched as a chair was brought in with some rope and realised he was to be strapped to the chair. He was too weak to fight but that didn't stop him trying Renard just laughed at his weak efforts. Aramis found himself strapped to the chair with his arms bound to the arms of the chair and his feet to the legs of the chair. He could move his body but without his limbs he was struggling.

Renard was just watching him and it was unnerving Aramis. What was he waiting for? Aramis soon had his answer as Boucher appeared carrying a small wooden box and had a devilish smile on his face. Simon also appeared but his eyes were full of worry. Aramis suspected he had something to worry about.

Renard opened the box and showed it to Aramis. Inside were various sizes of needles and Aramis felt acid rise in his throat.

'You know what these are for then,' Renard smiled evilly as Aramis swallowed.

Renard picked up one of the needles and moved towards Aramis' right hand. Aramis tried to pull against the ropes but they were too tight. Renard smiled as he lowered the needle and took hold of Aramis' thumb. He glanced at Aramis who trying to brace himself and calmly slipped the needle under the nail.

Aramis felt his body tense with the pain and gritted his teeth to stop a moan escaping him. Renard was amused by the musketeer who was still trying to show resilience. He wasn't broken, yet. Renard continued his onslaught until he had finished with all of Aramis' fingers. Aramis had finally let out a moan when Renard had started on the index finger of his left hand when he could no longer stifle his moans but he never screamed. Aramis was shaking now as his fingers pulsed in pain. He could offer no resistance when he was removed from the chair and placed back on the straw and chained again. His hands were on fire and he could barely move his fingers. The men left and Aramis tried to pick up his doublet but his fingers wouldn't react. He lay on the hay feeling miserable and tears started to roll down his cheeks.

* * *

'This is unacceptable, Majesty,' Rochefort said forcefully to the King. 'They are your own regiment and they have abandoned you.'

'Rochefort, they may have a very good reason,' Louis countered. 'Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan are not men to desert their duty.'

'Then why didn't they say anything,' Rochefort was livid that the musketeers had left. They may not make to Épernon before nightfall but would most likely arrive in the morning. He had hoped to delay them longer.

'Is there a problem?' Queen Anne appeared glaring at Milady who was listening to the discussion.

'It seem that Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan have left and Rochefort is wondering about their reasons,' Louis huffed.

'Forgive me, I was distracted,' Anne smiled her best smile. 'Aramis hasn't returned from a mission and they were clearly worried so I thought it best to let them go and find their friend.'

'You gave them permission to leave?' Louis looked at Anne curiously.

'Yes. I asked them to send three replacements if Aramis hadn't returned to the garrison,' Anne did her best to look slightly abashed as it wasn't really her role to order the musketeers about. 'Three replacements have appeared so I can only assume that Aramis wasn't at the garrison.'

'Well Rochefort, there you go,' Louis puffed his chest out. 'They had permission and we should hope that they find Aramis unhurt and with a good reason for his delay in returning.'

'I had known that Aramis hadn't returned but I felt that his absence wasn't strange. He was only due back yesterday and I felt they were overreacting,' Rochefort defended his actions. 'It is possible that he has been delayed by a liaison, which is likely given his character, and I saw no reason for a search party.'

'Perhaps not Rochefort, but when one of my best men is missing I think it best to find out what happened to him,' Louis was doing his best to clearly state his power. 'Should he have been delayed by a 'liaison' then he will be punished for shirking his duty.' Louis moved away signalling the end of the conversation as Rochefort followed slightly behind but he did look back at Anne with a rather confused expression.

'Forgive me, Your Majesty,' Milady had been listening intently and was well aware of Rochefort's hatred of the musketeers, she curtseyed as she spoke. Anne just glared back at her husband's mistress. 'I know these men. Aramis may be a flirt but if his friends expected him back yesterday he would have returned unless something more serious than a flirt with a barmaid had happened.' Anne swallowed at Milady's description of Aramis but she already knew he had a reputation.

'Your point being?' she replied coldly.

'If the others were really worried then I think he is truly in trouble,' Milady said frankly and Anne could see something behind the façade the woman usually kept. 'They have a sense when each other is in danger. Let us hope they find Aramis well.' Anne watched astonished at the woman's behaviour. She thought she understood her but clearly there was something else going on. Something to do with the musketeers.

* * *

They rode for as long as they could and were now in reach of Épernon. They decided to stop at the next town with an inn and confront the Duke in the morning. They had seen no sign of Aramis or evidence of any kind of scuffle on the road.

'We'll stay here for the night and see Épernon in the morning,' Athos said as he dismounted.

'The horses could do with a rest as well,' D'Artagnan supplied.

'And I'm hungry,' Porthos growled as he moved into the inn and Athos and D'Artagnan shared a look.

They moved inside and quickly found a table and booked a room. Normally they would book two rooms but that was with four of them and none of them really wanted to be alone. Porthos said he would sleep on the floor as he could sleep anywhere but they all knew they were probably going to struggle to sleep.

'You all musketeers?' the barmaid asked as she came over with food.

'Yes,' Athos answered. 'Why?'

'Don't see a lot of musketeers,' she said as she flicked her brunette locks out of her face. 'Saw one couple of days ago. Right looker he was too.' The men's hearts lifted but Athos realised they needed to know more.

'Which way was he heading?' he asked calmly.

'Towards the Duke's estate,' she answered. 'Guessing that's where he was going. Haven't seen him come back though. Was hoping he'd stay here. D'you know him?' she asked suddenly curious.

'Yes, his name is Aramis,' Athos answered.

'He's our friend,' Porthos smiled.

'Have you heard anything about him?' D'Artagnan asked trying to keep panic out of his voice.

'Nah,' she said. 'Saw him go by heading towards the estate. Figured he'd be back here for the night as the Duke don't like visitors but he never stopped by. Must have sheltered somewhere else an' I didn't see him the next day. Why?'

'He was supposed to be back in Paris yesterday and if he never came through here a second time something has happened to him between here and Épernon,' Porthos explained.

'Well be careful,' she looked solemn. 'The Duke won't get caught for nowt so if he is responsible it ain't good for yer friend. Hope he's ok.' She moved away and the musketeers' worry deepened. If Aramis had gotten on the wrong side of the Duke they may never find him.

Aramis sat shivering in his cell. His hands ached and his fingernails were turning black. He somehow managed to drink from the water-skin by using the heel of his hands but his fingers weren't really much use. They throbbed and the pain increased immensely if he tried to put any kind of pressure on them. He shivered and winced as he managed to get his doublet in his lap but he couldn't wrap it around himself and the cold was starting to affect him. Being underground meant the temperature had dropped and the room wasn't being heated by the sun during the day so it was even colder.

The door clanked open and Simon entered and quickly wrapped Aramis in his doublet.

'Better?' he asked and Aramis nodded. He held out the mug of broth which Aramis noticed wasn't as full as usual and he had been given no bread or cheese. 'Renard,' was all Simon said.

Aramis tried to hold the mug but freely winced as he tried to hold it. The pressure on the tips of his fingers was excruciating. Simon noticed and managed to get the mug in the heels of Aramis' hands so the musketeer could drink.

'I've killed too many people,' Simon blurted out and Aramis looked at him curiously. 'I know the little I'm doing for you won't change that but it is what it is. Renard would go mental if he knew how I felt. I can't fight him and the others. Just try and hang on.'

'Thank you for helping me how you have,' Aramis said. 'I am grateful.' Aramis sipped his broth as Simon took his leave. Aramis was starting to hope that Simon may offer help or at least little resistance when his brothers finally found him. If they found him.

* * *

 **A/N: I brought Fortier back because I loved him so much. I felt it would be helpful if was the catalyst for the musketeers to escape the garden party. Seemed a bit of a waste to only have him for while the boy's were relaxing. :)**


	30. Chapter 30

**Warning: This chapter contains physical and mental torture. Please be aware.**

 **Just a reminder that I own nothing and all mistakes are mine. :)**

* * *

Chapter – Thirty

The musketeers woke early after very little sleep. A silent agreement had been reached that Athos should be the one to speak to the Duke. Athos honestly hated talking to nobles, which was ironic as he had once been one. He had never enjoyed the power that his title gave him and often chose to use it sparingly. Athos was sure the Duke would either say Aramis had been there or quite possibly forget a musketeer had ever visited. Athos knew he would have to keep his patience in check and was quietly imploring the others to do so as well.

Even though they woke early they waited a few hours to travel as high noblemen were known for rising late and the Duke would not see their search for their friend as an emergency. The last thing they wanted was to incur the Duke's wrath and make him less than helpful.

* * *

Aramis woke as the door of his cell clanged open. Renard saw the musketeer's doublet wrapped around him and pulled it away, instantly making Aramis shiver.

'Today, things start getting a bit more painful,' Renard grinned evilly and Aramis felt a shiver run through him that wasn't from the cold.

Renard brought out a thick bladed knife and held it in front of Aramis, twirling in it in his fingers. The dull blade would cause more pain than a sharper one and Aramis was sure this was going to be used on him. Renard was trying to judge the marksman's reactions but Aramis was careful to give little away.

'Gonna send a report to the Duke today,' Renard said. 'He wants an idea of our progress. But first I want to inflict some pain.'

Renard clicked his fingers and Aramis was held down by the usual men and gritted his teeth as Renard approached with the dull knife.

Renard considered Aramis in front of him and slowly scored a line from Aramis' right should to just above his nipple. Aramis could no longer hold in the moans of pain and this pleased Renard greatly. He moved to Aramis' left shoulder and repeated the movement as Aramis glared and growled. Renard then moved to Aramis' stomach and proceeded to cut smaller cuts but they still bled. He moved to just above the waistband of Aramis' breeches and did the same. For the first time Aramis screamed with the pain and Renard laughed as he had finally caused the musketeer to relinquish his refusal to scream.

Aramis was panting now trying to suck in any oxygen he could. Renard then moved to cut Aramis' breeches away and Aramis manged to aim a kick which connected with Renard's knee causing the scarred man to gasp with pain.

'Careful, musketeer,' he spat as he grabbed Aramis hair, exposing his neck. 'You don't want me to slip.' Aramis set his jaw had said nothing as Renard cut his breeches away and then roughly cut his braies to his mid-thigh. Aramis was already cold and now he was starting to shiver and he hoped involuntary movements wouldn't cause more damage.

Renard continued to cut Aramis skin with small cuts but they did bleed more than Aramis had thought. He wasn't going to bleed to death with these cuts but he knew that wasn't their purpose. These cuts were meant to become infected and that was how Renard wanted him to die. Days fighting, struggling against an infection that he couldn't possibly beat and wouldn't be treated. Aramis suddenly realised that Renard had stopped and was looking at him curiously.

'You've worked out how you will die, I see?' Renard grinned. 'Then you know that fighting is pointless. Even by some miracle that your friends find you they will now be too late.'

'Renard,' Aramis called. 'I know you are right...but be warned...when they find me, and they will, they will hunt you and your death may yet be as painful as mine.' Aramis felt a sense of triumph as a flicker of fear crossed the scarred man's features. Renard realised his fear had shown and cursed himself as he saw the look in Aramis' eyes.

'Don't worry,' he snarled. 'We'll do your back tomorrow.' Renard turned and left and the door was firmly locked in place again.

Aramis started checking the cuts. There were many and they were all oozing blood but Aramis knew the damage could already be done. Aramis' fingers were still sore and the nails were black. The pressure underneath them was immense but he managed to take a swig of water from the water-skin that they had left and then fumbled the water-skin trying to clean the cuts as best he could.

Once the water-skin was empty he lay down on the straw and realised his doublet was gone. They were going to leave him like this until he died.

* * *

Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan approached the gates of the Duke of Épernon's estate with their silent agreement, about Athos speaking, still in place. Athos had never felt comfortable with servants and the Duke was clearly the opposite. Many servants could already be seen tending to the pristine gardens and they all knew it would be the same inside. Athos had always hated the idea of the ranks but he also knew exactly how to play them. Where Aramis might find a way to charm individuals Athos was clear on the etiquette that was expected. The lies and politics often made him feel sick but he knew he would have to watch his tongue. Any small accusation against the Duke could have far reaching consequences. He would surely have to play this carefully and hope that Porthos and D'Artagnan could hold their tongues as well.

They stated their business was with the Duke and were lead to an anti-chamber and were forced to wait a good twenty minutes before they were ushered in to meet the Duke. The Duke had been surprised to hear of their arrival this early as he had thought the Rochefort would keep them occupied for a while longer. He had decided on the best approach and although the men in front of him were just as repulsive as his captured musketeer he knew he couldn't show it. If he did, it would arouse suspicion and that was the last thing he wanted.

'Gentlemen,' he greeted them. 'More musketeers, what can I do for you?' The Duke had decided that ignoring Aramis completely would be strange and therefore decided that he would say Aramis had left here and he hadn't seen him since. This of course was vaguely true.

The musketeers bowed respectfully before Athos stepped forward.

'Please forgive our unexpected arrival, Monsieur,' Athos started. 'We do not wish to take up too much of your time but from your previous statement it is clear that you have met our colleague, the Musketeer Aramis.' Athos paused and waited.

'Yes,' the Duke confirmed as he looked to Athos. 'He delivered a letter to me and then he left.'

'It is about our colleague, Monsieur,' Athos continued. 'He has not returned to Paris and we are currently searching for his whereabouts. Did he seem in any way distressed or unwell?'

The Duke looked Athos in the eye and instantly regretted it. The piercing, icy blue orbs could see right through to his soul, he was sure of it. The musketeer, though technically a common soldier, was clearly adept in the ways of the nobles. The Duke knew he had to be careful.

'Not that I noticed,' he tried to keep his voice calm. 'I have heard nothing about any man being injured on my property either so, I'm sorry but I cannot help you.'

'Thank you, Monsieur,' Athos felt Porthos bristle beside him. 'May I ask your permission to search for him on you estate?'

'Why on earth would you want to do that?' the Duke snapped and realised his edginess was showing while the man in front of him was as calml as a millpond and in no way surprised by his outburst.

'I merely think it would be best to confirm whether or not our colleague left your estate or whether he may have run into trouble,' Athos kept his voice calm and reasonable. He wanted to make the Duke think that he didn't suspect him while the opposite was true. The more he watched the Duke the more he knew the man was involved in Aramis' disappearance. 'I think it would be best if we conducted a quiet search to establish if there was any chance of Aramis still being here. He is one of our best soldiers and the regiment doesn't take disappearances lightly. Allowing the three of us to conduct a search will cause little disruption to you and your subjects and therefore the need for a larger search party will not be required. We are, after all, the King's own regiment and I'm sure he will be happy to hear that you aided us in our search.'

Athos was analysing the movement of the Duke. He had stiffened considerably when a larger search party was mentioned and had then relaxed at mention of the King being grateful for letting them search. This man was involved and Athos knew it.

The Duke pondered his approach. His estate was large and the three of them would be unlikely to find Aramis' prison by themselves. The last thing he wanted was for more musketeers to appear with orders from the King to search the property. Would the King do that for a single soldier? Louis was fond of his regiment that much was known and could therefore know the musketeer by name. What if he was one of the favourites? He could not take that risk.

'Very well,' the Duke said calmly. 'You have until dusk to search. After that you will be arrested for trespass.' The Duke turned away as the musketeers recognised the dismissal.

'Thank you, Monsieur,' Athos aid. The Duke had given them the chance to search but the Épernon estate was large and they couldn't possibly search all of it. The Duke was definitely hiding something.

The musketeers bowed and turned to leave but Athos turned back and the sight in front of him horrified him. Clearly draped around the Duke's neck and clutched in his hand was the distinctive and unique crucifix that Aramis had received from the Queen. Athos turned as the Duke looked up and did not dare to look back.

* * *

The musketeers walked silently towards their horses and mounted quickly. They had little time to spare and the Duke clearly believed that they wouldn't find Aramis in their time frame. It was only once they were away from the estate that Porthos spoke.

'He's got him somewhere,' the big man growled. 'I know it.'

'Agreed,' D'Artagnan said grimly.

'He has Aramis' crucifix,' Athos said quietly but clear anger was present.

'WHAT!' Porthos said loudly making his horse jump at the sound.

'He clearly knew where Aramis was and as we were leaving I saw the crucifix around his neck,' Athos explained. 'He clearly believes that we won't find Aramis in the time he has given us and we have no idea where to start.'

'Maybe if we wait for him to leave he could lead us to Aramis?' D'Artagnan's voice was full of scepticism at his own suggestion.

'He ain't that stupid,' Porthos growled.

'All we can do is keep looking for anything abnormal or any kind of building that they could be using to hold him,' Athos said with authority.

'And if we don't find him?' D'Artagnan asked hopelessly.

'We keep searching until we do,' Athos eyes held a love and concern that D'Artagnan had only seen a few times in time he had been with the musketeers. Aramis and Porthos were always more open about feelings but fear and worry was radiating from the swordsman and that worried D'Artagnan even more.

* * *

The Duke was pacing as he realised the musketeers were not convinced he was innocent. He kept telling himself to calm down as they had no evidence.

'Excuse me, sir,' a soldier appeared. 'The musketeers have gone to explore the west side of the estate.'

'Thank you,' the Duke smiled and waved a hand to dismiss the man. Aramis was in the south of the estate and the Duke rushed to get to his horse. He knew how to break the musketeer now and he wanted to watch.

* * *

Aramis sat contemplating his future. Renard was convinced that Aramis would die here and that alone made Aramis wonder where he was. He was clearly far enough away from the estate, or anywhere at all, that it would be difficult for his brothers to find him. The state of his hands made him wince. The blood blisters were pressing hard against the nails and soon the nails would drop out. That would give him some relief if he could ensure they wouldn't become infected, but he couldn't ensure that. Already the cuts were starting to itch but thankfully most of the blood had congealed and was now starting to seal the cuts. Unfortunately, in terms of infection the damage may have already been done.

The cell door opened and Simon entered carrying two water-skins and the man looked horrified at the state of Aramis. He quickly moved to the two wounds on Aramis' chest that were the largest and oozing slightly. He looked at Aramis for permission and Aramis nodded as Simon poured water onto the cuts, making Aramis wince.

'I'm sorry,' the man said quietly. 'I'm useless.'

'You're helping,' Aramis said quietly. 'That's what matters. What's your name?'

'Simon,' he answered.

'Simon, you can't be seen to help me. I know that,' Aramis gave a weak smile. 'But you have done a lot for me. Thank you.' Simon smiled slightly and took the empty water-skin leaving Aramis with a full one.

* * *

Simon moved back upstairs and found Boucher sat at the table in their make-shift kitchen. Simon saw Aramis' doublet hung over the back of Boucher's chair and the warm mug of broth the man was drinking. Simon sat down with a sigh as he thought of the musketeer held prisoner down in the cells.

'What's wrong?' Boucher asked giving Simon a curious look.

'Nothing,' Simon answered but avoided eye-contact.

'Don't tell me you feel sorry for the bastard?' Boucher said angrily.

'I don't believe that man threw a child into a river willingly,' Simon responded hotly.

'You calling Renard a liar?' Boucher was incensed at his friend's feelings.

'Yes, I suppose I am,' Simon was angry now. 'That is a man who kills because he has to. Not like us who will kill anybody we're told to.'

'He's no better than us!'

'I think he is!' Simon filled a mug with broth and was in two mind whether he should take it to Aramis. 'Don't you ever hate yourself for just killing because you're told to?'

'No. That's our job,' Boucher responded defiantly. 'Remember that Simon. I'm keeping an eye on you.'

* * *

The Duke and a couple of trusted soldiers made for Aramis' prison and were greeted by a surprised Renard.

'What you doin' here?' Renard asked surprised.

'I assume he is still alive?' the Duke smiled to Renard who nodded. 'Good. Did you break him yet?'

'He's stubborn for sure,' Renard sighed. 'He believes his friends will come for him.'

'They have,' the Duke walked into the dingy building. 'And now I know how to crush him.'

'Wait a minute!' Renard said with shock in his voice. 'They're looking for him?' The Duke nodded. 'Did it ever occur to you that they might have followed you here?!'

'They were going west. One of my soldiers confirmed it,' Duke said angrily at Renard for questioning him. 'I believe that they are the perfect weapon against him.'

* * *

'This is hopeless,' D'Artagnan snapped. They had been riding around the estate for hours now and they weren't even sure what they were looking for. 'He could be dead already!' D'Artagnan was clearly suffering with the loss of Aramis and was now struggling to hold it together.

'He's not dead,' Porthos grunted. 'I'd know,' he pointed at his heart to make the point.

'He's alive,' Athos agreed. 'The world will feel an even darker place without him. My heart tells me he's alive.'

'I thought you taught head over heart,' D'Artagnan looked Athos with a slightly amused look.

'I do D'Artagnan,' Athos brought Roger alongside Zad. 'In battle your heart can cause you to misjudge but when you're searching for those you truly care about, you have to listen to your instincts and not your mind. The mind is very good at imagining the worst possible outcome but the heart just see the truth.'

D'Artagnan looked quizzically at Athos. The man must be seriously worried as he rarely displayed any kind of emotion. Athos took Zad's reins for a moment and D'Artagnan understood. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore his brain which was currently concocting all kinds of scenarios. Was Aramis alive? He wasn't sure how long he had his eyes closed but he realised that if Aramis were dead he would feel as if a part of himself had died and that wasn't true. He felt wounded but not as if a part of him was gone. Aramis was alive, for now.

'He's alive,' D'Artagnan opened his eyes. 'But we have to find him quickly.' The other two nodded as they continued their search.

* * *

The Duke decided he wanted to see Aramis for himself and put his new and dastardly idea to work. The Duke walked through the open cell door to see the dishevelled form of Aramis who was covered in blood and looked strikingly like the living dead. The Duke was about to speak when Aramis spoke first.

'To what do I owe the honour?' Aramis' voice was dripping with sarcasm and the Duke could see why Renard said he wasn't broken yet. The Duke was reminded of Rochefort's advice.

'I just wanted to see how pathetic you looked,' the Duke sneered while Aramis managed a sarcastic smile. 'Oh, I also have some information for you.'

'What information?' Aramis felt himself tense at the cruel smile on the Duke's lips. He dreaded what the man was going to say next. He also saw his beloved gift from the Queen around the man's neck and hated him even more.

'It's about your colleagues,' the Duke smirked and crouched before Aramis. Aramis felt a wave of fear run through him. The man could only mean his brothers. 'There were three of them.' This confirmed Aramis' worst fears.

'What about them?' Aramis voice held a dark quality that was reserved for those threatening people he loved.

'They came looking for you,' the Duke said matter-of-factly. Aramis felt his stomach squirm. 'They, like you, are now our guests.'

'WHERE ARE THEY?!' Aramis roared back. He was done hiding his emotions as the Duke smirked at him.

'I'm surprised you haven't heard their cries,' the Duke said calmly. 'Although, this is a large complex so perhaps their screams didn't travel.' Aramis could feel fear and hate rising up inside him as he contemplated his brothers' fate.

'What did you do?' Aramis asked even though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

'Well,' the Duke's voice was sounding so happy, in fact positively gleeful, that Aramis would have killed him if he hadn't been chained. 'The cold stoic one with blue eyes,' Athos, Aramis concluded. 'He fought bravely but in the end he took a blow to the ribs. He was spouting blood when I last saw him and the likelihood is that his rib punctured his lung. He's not long for this world.'

Aramis thought of his friend who rarely showed emotion but had let him into his heart. Had always cared for both him and Porthos and latterly D'Artagnan when care was needed. Athos couldn't be dying.

'Then there was the mongrel,' Aramis bristled at the Duke's description of Porthos. 'Take a bit of pain to train him for the slave roll he was born for. I know a man I can sell him to.' The Duke was clearly relishing the power he had over Aramis.

Aramis couldn't help but think of Porthos chained up like a dog. No human should suffer that. Made to work until he dropped dead. Porthos was kind-hearted and didn't deserve that. No-one man did.

'Of course, then there's the young one,' the Duke continued. 'He cried when we took his most precious possessions.'

'What have you done to D'Artagnan?' Aramis asked as he knew he wouldn't like the answer.

'We took away his livelihood. He'll never hold a sword again,' the Duke said simply. The Duke then wiggled his fingers as Aramis understood the man's true meaning.

'NOOOO!' Aramis howled like a wounded animal as he charged the Duke. The Duke had gotten too close as Aramis head-butted him hard, full of anger. Aramis no longer cared. His brothers had suffered because of him. 'NOOO!' he wailed again as he dropped to his knees and started pulling at his hair with his sore hands. The pain in his body was completely insignificant compared to his emotional distress. He was a broken man.

Boucher and Simon heard the anguished cry in the kitchen. While Boucher smiled at the noise, Simon felt physically sick. What had the Duke done to the musketeer?

Outside of the shack, Fidget, Aramis' black stallion, heard his master's cry of pain and sorrow and pulled against the rope tethering him to the building. The horse broke free and galloped across the surrounding fields to escape the dreadful noise.

* * *

 **A/N: I'll do my best to continue this as quickkly as possible. :)**


	31. Chapter 31

**This chapter is slightly different to the one planned as I've finally decided on Simon's motives and his thought process. It is slightly fragmented as well.**

 **Also there is cursing in this.**

 **Hope you enjoy it! :)**

* * *

Chapter Thirty – One

The Duke could feel his nose bleeding and swelling from where the musketeer had hit him. Although he was in pain he was satisfied that Aramis was now a broken man. The musketeer had been sat on the straw rocking backwards and forwards with no recollection of anything or anyone around him when they had left.

'That'll be sore for a bit,' Renard smirked expecting a rebuke from the Duke.

'Was worth it though,' the Duke replied instead. 'He'll fight no more. Not sure he'll last very long now that he thinks his friends are either hurt or dead.'

'Where did you get that idea?' Renard asked curiously.

'Our mutual friend,' was all the Duke said and Renard understood. Rochefort had spoken about the bond between the men and the Duke had used it to his advantage.

'Well, I'll let him stew for a bit,' Renard smirked.

* * *

Aramis was sat in his cell. He no longer felt the physical pain in his body and he no longer cared. Only the visions of his brothers floated through his head. Athos dying from a punctured lung, Porthos chained up like an animal and D'Artagnan never being able to touch or feel anything with his fingers again. They were hurt because of him. He had caused this. How did they ever call him brother?

There was no point in living now. The fight was over and he'd lost. His brothers were either hurt or dead and his beloved Fidget was also gone from this world. He was the reason they were dead. Anne and his son would be better off without him. The treason at least would never come to light. They would be safe without him around. The world would be better off with him dead.

* * *

The three remaining Inseparables continued to search for their missing member but all grew worried as the sun was starting to fall in the sky. It was only a few hours until sunset and they still had no idea where they would find Aramis. It was starting to look hopeless.

'Let's try over there,' D'Artagnan pointed to his left as the others nodded with no better plan themselves. D'Artagnan started to move Zad in the direction he had pointed towards when the horse turned the other way unexpectedly. 'Zad, you stupid horse,' D'Artagnan grumbled and tried to convince the other horse to move. Zad didn't budge as Flip and Roger turned the same way as well.

'What's got into 'em?' Porthos asked surprised by the horses' actions. 'What the-'

'Ssshhh,' Athos' hissed quietly. 'Look at their ears,' he mouthed. All three horses were flicking their ears, clearly straining to hear something that their riders couldn't hear.

'I can hear hooves,' D'Artagnan whispered as Porthos lay his hand on his pistol and Athos followed suit.

'How many?' Porthos whispered back.

'Just one I think.'

Suddenly over the crest they saw a very familiar black stallion charging towards them. Fidget. Though the musketeers were happy to see Aramis' horse, the lack of saddle and Aramis was unnerving. Fidget stopped a few metres away from them and started pawing his front left hoof on the ground. He shook his head and neighed, whinnied and snorted. The musketeers were shocked as their horses did the same in turn.

'They're talking to each other?' Athos said astonished.

'Yer think?' Porthos said sarcastically.

'Athos, you surely realise that horses communicate?' D'Artagnan raised an eyebrow as his mentor had often done and Athos' expression left the younger man in no doubt that Athos wasn't amused. Or maybe he was, slightly. 'Anyway, now you know how I feel when you three have a silent conversation,' D'Artagnan whispered before his face fell as he realised what he had said.

Athos made to reach out to D'Artagnan but Fidget had obviously communicated all he had to say and turned and took off at break-neck speed. The other horses followed catching their riders by surprise and they all had to hang on tight. Porthos urged Flip forward so he could grasp the rope tied around Fidget's neck. He managed to slow Fidget but the horse was clearly distressed. Eventually Fidget slowed as his energy reserves depleted but in the distance a stone shack could be seen with horses tethered outside and smoke coming from the chimney.

'Look there,' Athos pointed at a near copse of trees and the musketeers headed towards them. Fidget, though reluctant to move, finally followed as Porthos led Flip towards Athos and D'Artagnan. Fidget tried to move out of the trees towards the shack but D'Artagnan managed to soothe him by rubbing the horse's neck and nose. The horse clearly wanted to go towards the shack making it clear that Aramis was in there.

Athos took the spyglass and tried to analyse the building. So far he could only see one entrance and there were two men posted outside. It was unclear how many were inside but he doubted there would be many from the size of the shack.

'Right,' Athos said business-like once more. 'There are two men on the door and there appears to be only one entrance. We need to scout the building to see if there are any weaknesses and see if we can determine how many men are inside.'

D'Artagnan took the large cooking pot from his saddle bag and placed it on the ground. He drank some water from his water-skin and then tipped the rest into the pot before placing the pot in front of Fidget who was now tethered to a tree with the other horses as well as hobbled to stop him charging for his rider.

'You did so well,' D'Artagnan crooned to the horse. 'Don't worry we'll get him out,' D'Artagnan continued to stroke Fidget and the horse finally started to drink the offered water.

* * *

The Duke moved back down to the cell to see Aramis one last time. He couldn't resist rubbing in his victory. Aramis was now sat leaning against the cell wall with a very dazed expression on his face but did look up as the Duke entered the cell.

'Well, I better be off,' the Duke said jovially. 'A feast will be ready for me when I return.' The Duke expected to see anger and hopelessness from Aramis instead he saw a smile from the musketeer.

'Enjoy your food,' Aramis said lightly. 'Though I doubt you'll be able to taste it.' Aramis knew that although he was beaten he would make sure the Duke remembered the smile and retort that he mustered now. He would die here but the Duke would always remember his smiling face rather than that of a beaten man.

The Duke glared at Aramis as he tried to rapidly think of a retort. He left the cell without an answer and turned back to see the musketeer smiling at him. He and wished that he'd never gone back to taunt him. The musketeer had accepted his death and that frightened the Duke even more.

* * *

'Porthos, go and check the other side,' Athos instructed. 'I'll check the near the horses and see if I can find evidence of a cellar. D'Artagnan, check the entrance but be careful as there isn't a lot of cover and you don't want to be seen. We need to make our attack under the cover of dark so we can surprise them.'

The musketeers all moved to their locations to scour the building. Any advantage at all, coupled with the element of surprise, could give them the best chance to take on the men inside the shack and rescue Aramis.

Porthos quietly circled the property from a distance. He had the spyglass but as much as the shack was old it did seem rather sturdy. As he circled he could see no other entrances or exits but as they had found out previously, there could be an escape route underground. Porthos looked around and deduced that this was unlikely. There was a stream nearby and the ground appeared water logged. The shack was also in a slight valley which meant run-off from the rain would go towards the shack, unlike the previous shack which was at a higher level. He could see gaps just above the ground's surface and concluded that there was likely to be a cellar and that would surely be a good place to hide Aramis.

Athos moved closer and could see the horses tied up. He could also see evidence of the rope that Fidget had torn to escape. He could see small windows just above the ground and knew that suggested that there was indeed a cellar and that would be the best place to hide Aramis. He wished he could give Aramis some kind of sign but there were a few windows and he couldn't possibly know where Aramis was. He cursed quietly as he continued to look for any other entrances but saw none. It seemed that the only way in and out was the front entrance.

D'Artagnan crawled on his stomach to get as close as he could without being seen. There were three horses tethered at the front of the building while more horses were tethered at the back. The front entrance was guarded by two men who really were just there and occasionally looked around but clearly felt that there would be no threat. D'Artagnan crawled a little closer as stopped as he heard voices.

'What did he say to you?' the first voice asked but D'Artagnan couldn't see the man. The voice sounded familiar but he couldn't place it.

'It doesn't matter,' came the second voice briskly. D'Artagnan smiled as he recognised the voice of the Duke. Aramis must still be alive.

'He's broken now,' Renard insisted as he came into full view and D'Artagnan bit back a growl. 'But something happened. What?'

'It is not your place to question me!' the Duke snapped. Something had unnerved him and D'Artagnan could easily guess what, or perhaps who, it was.

'Look, don't come back for a few days,' Renard said as the Duke and his two men mounted their horses. 'The musketeers will continue to look and any threat about arresting them will fall on deaf ears. We have enough provisions for tomorrow and the day after. They could be watching you.' D'Artagnan smirked slightly as Renard had no idea how right he was.

'Alright, I won't send anyone to you in the next couple of days,' the Duke agreed. 'I doubt he'll last much longer than that anyway. Dammit,' the Duke exclaimed as his nose started to bleed again. D'Artagnan smiled as deduced that Aramis was most likely responsible.

'I'll make it extremely painful, I promise,' Renard said as he backed away as the Duke started riding away from the shack. D'Artagnan's stomach gave a jolt as the man he had fought on the road to Fortier's a week ago came into view. This confirmed that Aramis was targeted if they had tried to get him before. 'Simon, check on the horses. We will be here a while longer.'

So the man's name was Simon, D'Artagnan was finally glad to put a name to the man's face. The other two guards followed Renard inside leaving Simon alone. The man looked tired and upset which D'Artagnan was struggling to understand. Aramis was in a bad way it would seem so surely Simon should be happy?

D'Artagnan was lost in his thoughts as a bee buzzed loudly in his ear. He instinctively moved to swat it away and slightly lost his balance causing a loud crunch. Simon's head snapped in the direction of the sound and the blue and brown eyes connected. D'Artagnan knew he had been seen and prepared to run but Simon just nodded slightly and moved towards the horses. D'Artagnan looked on confused at Simon's reaction. Why hadn't he raised the alarm? D'Artagnan slowly made his way back to the trees but Simon never turned around, as if he was ignoring the musketeer altogether.

* * *

Simon watched as the Duke came up from Aramis' cell looking slightly bewildered and not triumphant as was expected. Clearly Aramis had gotten to him. Simon didn't know what had happened to make Aramis wail like he had but he hoped that the musketeer still had some strength for a fight. The knowledge that his friends had already started looking for him was enough for Simon to wonder what he would do should they arrive. The youngest musketeer would surely recognise him and Simon doubted mercy would be on the young man's mind. Simon realised that most likely he would die here when the musketeers finally found their missing friend but he also realised that he wasn't afraid anymore.

He moved outside as he wanted to get some fresh air as that shack was damp and dusty. He also didn't want to be around Aramis' tormentors any more than he had to. Would he aid the musketeers when they arrived? He didn't know. They wouldn't trust him but he had to get Aramis some food somehow. Renard had told him to tend to the horses and he made towards the back of the shack.

He heard a rustling noise in the grass and his eyes widened as he saw the youngest musketeer staring back looking frightened at being discovered. They were here. Simon found himself nodding slightly to the musketeer hoping that the man would understand that he would not raise the alarm. To further emphasise his point Simon walked over to the horses as if nothing had happened and did not look back as he was sure the musketeer was retreating. Simon saw the torn rope and smiled as he realised Aramis' stallion was missing. It seemed that like the men, the horses were truly loyal to each other. Simon knew his own death may be near but he accepted that if he did die, it may be best to be killed by a musketeer who did so to save their friend.

* * *

D'Artagnan arrived back in trees to find Athos and Porthos already there. He was about to explain what had happened when Athos spoke first.

'There appears to be a cellar and there are many windows, suggesting many cells. I couldn't deduce which one Aramis was in,' he said.

'There are no other entrances and the building's sturdy,' Porthos confirmed his findings. 'I doubt there is a secret tunnel either.'

'I was seen,' D'Artagnan blurted out.

'Shit!' Porthos exclaimed and looked worried.

'I told you to be careful,' Athos hissed. 'Now they know we're coming,' anger was pouring from the man.

'I don't think they do,' D'Artagnan countered receiving disbelieving looks from his comrades. 'The man that saw me was the man I fought on the road to Fortier's estate. The Duke was just leaving and the man with the scar, Renard, from the Queen's capture was there as well. They've clearly been targeting Aramis.'

'That means the attack on the road, the attack on the Queen and Aramis' abduction are all linked,' Athos was looking thoughtful now as D'Artagnan took the spyglass from Porthos.

'That's him, Simon,' D'Artagnan pointed out as the others looked. 'He definitely saw me but he just nodded and carried on. He didn't go and raise the alarm. Is it doesn't make sense.'

'Unless...' Porthos smiled knowingly at Athos.

'Unless, what?' D'Artagnan looked confused.

'These men follow orders day in and day out without question. Perhaps, this Simon, has finally decided that he doesn't like his orders anymore,' Athos said.

'It happens when men believe they have been lied to one too many times,' Porthos nodded.

'Of course, Aramis, by just being himself can also get people on side,' Athos smirked slightly. 'Whatever the man's reasons we should be grateful.'

'Let's rest. We'll need our energy tonight,' Porthos said quietly.

* * *

Darkness fell and Aramis surveyed the place where his life would end. The cuts were starting to itch and that was a sure sign that they were infected. His mind was whirling and his brothers were his only thoughts. It seemed he would be joining Athos soon but he had no idea what would happen to Porthos and D'Artagnan. The cold and pain were secondary now but as the shock of the Duke's revelation wore off the pain was increasing. He was satisfied that the Duke wouldn't forget him in a hurry through. The man had truly looked troubled when he had left.

The cell door opened and Renard walked in. Aramis had hoped it would be Simon but he was no longer afraid of the pain Renard could inflict. Nothing could be worse than his brothers' fates.

'What d'you want?' Aramis broke the silence.

'You don't look as defeated as I thought you would be,' Renard stated curiously.

'This is not the first time I have lost brothers,' Aramis stated simply as he thought about Savoy and how dark his mind had been then. Curiously, he wasn't at that dark place now and Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan, with all respect to the other musketeers, meant far more to him than anyone ever had. There was something not quite right about that.

'Here, make it last,' Renard said as he threw a full water-skin at Aramis. 'As I promised before, we'll do your back tomorrow,' Renard grinned evilly as he left but Aramis' demeanour was disturbing him.

Aramis took a drink of water and tried to make sense of his jumbled emotions. Surely he would have heard the cries of his brothers, wouldn't he? He realised that perhaps he was in denial but something wasn't right. He could feel it.

* * *

Simon sat in the kitchen as darkness fell. He had to decide who he truly sided with. Did he side with Renard? Or did he side with the musketeers knowing that most likely he would still die when they came for their friend? So far he hadn't told anyone that he had seen the youngest musketeer and he knew that the others would be close by and most likely that they would strike tonight. He hadn't mentioned the disappearance of Aramis' horse either as he knew that would put Renard and the other men on edge. No-one else knew of the horse's disappearance so he could always say the horse was there when he checked, he reasoned. Simon huffed slightly as he realised that in keeping quiet he had already made his decision. He wanted to go and tell Aramis that his brothers were coming but Boucher was keeping an eye on him so he decided to stay, eating his soup and bread, but he was on alert for the first sign of the attack.

* * *

The moon was finally high in the sky and the musketeers started to creep towards the shack. The moonlight was strong which meant they could see but so could their opponents. There had been no sign that Simon had told of their arrival and they were all grateful to the man, even though they could only guess at his motive. Of course, Simon may have told his colleagues and they were walking straight into a trap but the musketeers felt that was unlikely.

The musketeers kept low in the grass and stopped suddenly as the door opened. They couldn't see the man properly but when he turned into the moonlight and they recognised the scarred man, Renard. His posture was relaxed and he didn't seem to be concerned that he might be being watched. This confirmed that their arrival wasn't expected. Renard moved and started to pee into the long grass a few metres away from where the musketeers were hidden and Athos could feel Porthos tense next him.

Athos turned slowly and gave the man a warning look as Renard tucked himself away and started to move back to the shack and finally walked inside. Porthos let out a growl at his missed opportunity.

'A shot would have given us away,' Athos reminded him. 'At least now we know they are not expecting us.'

The musketeers started to move closer and D'Artagnan was the first to dash from the grass to press himself flat against the wall of the shack. Nothing was disturbed. Athos followed and flattened himself just in front of D'Artagnan who made a slight disparaging noise as Porthos appeared on the younger man's other side. They peered around the wall and Athos moved to the other side of the closed door. The door was wooden and could be brought down easily with the right force. The musketeers couldn't tell if it was locked but listened for voices.

'How long before we're out of here, d'you reckon?' the first voice said.

'Not too long,' a second voice replied. 'He won't last too long especially if Renard gets to his back tomorrow.'

'But have you seen him though?' the first voice sounded worried. 'He looks like he could still tear you apart if he was released.'

'Good job they won't release him then,' the second voice sounded more confident.

'What about his friends though?' the first voice was clearly worried. 'They'd kill us all.'

'They have to find us first,' the second voice sounded slightly exasperated, suggesting that they'd had this conversation before. 'Besides, the Duke said they were going in the wrong direction and he will have them arrested if they're found on his land. They're just soldiers, it's not as if they're that good!'

The wooden door snapped open with less noise than expected.

'We're not just soldiers...we're the elite. We're Musketeers.'

* * *

 **A/N: In relation to Fidget's story this came from one of my friends. There are two riding schools near us and the horses don't tend to mix. One day my friend was out and suddenly an unknown horse appeared and started 'talking' to her horse. My friend had to hold on tight as her horse bolted after the other horse. They found the other horse's rider unconscious from a fall and my friend called the air ambulance. These were horses that didn't know each other so I thought this would be natural for horses that did. :)**

 **Also, you will probably hate me as I have to prepare to defend my thesis so I'm not sure when the next update will be but I have started the next chapter. Please don't hate me! I will update when I can. :)**


	32. Chapter 32

**Hello. Got this done slightly quicker than expected. This does dash around a bit so I hope it makes sense. It was just how my brain saw it.**

 **Thank you to Kristy (Guest) for your reviews. They were much appreciated. :)**

 **Warning: There is violence and some cursing.**

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Two

The wooden door snapped open with less noise than expected.

'We're not just soldiers...we're the elite. We're Musketeers.' Athos stood before them with his sword drawn and D'Artagnan and Porthos stood either side of him.

The shock on the men's faces was apparent and Porthos lunged for one catching him before he could arm himself. Porthos pressed a hand over the man's mouth and broke his neck with a snap. Athos quickly thrust his sword through the other man as the look of 'no mercy' was clear on the swordsman's face. D'Artagnan quickly moved to place a hand over the man's mouth to stop any noise and gently laid the man on the floor.

'Two down,' Porthos said quietly.

The hallway was lit with lanterns and they could see a light coming from the room at the end of the hall. Though the hallway was lit it still took time for their eyes to adjust and they frantically tried to search for the stairs that would lead to the cellar and most likely to Aramis. They moved quietly closer to the lit room, passing deserted make-shift bedrooms along the way. They spotted the stairs that led underground which were opposite to the lit room. They stopped as they heard voices.

'What we doin' tomorrow Renard?' came a voice which sounded sickeningly gleeful to the musketeers.

'I'll slice his back tomorrow,' the heard Renard's voice. 'That'll speed things up especially as he won't be getting water anymore. I'll need you two to hold him again, although I doubt he'll give us much trouble.'

'What did the Duke say that made him howl like that?' another voice joined in and the three musketeers clenched their jaws in anger at the suggestion that Aramis was in serious pain. Aramis never howled. The only time they had heard a howl from the man was during his nightmares after Savoy.

'Can't tell you that Boucher,' Renard's voice rang out. 'You alright, Simon?'

'Fine,' came the response.

'I really hope you're not feeling bad for him,' Renard growled. 'He deserves what he's gettin'. Remember that.' Renard's growl was vicious but Simon didn't flinch. The musketeers, of course, couldn't see that but they deduced that Simon was not happy with whatever Renard was doing to Aramis.

Suddenly, a man appeared in the doorway from where he must have been leant on the other side of the wall near the door of the lit room and his eyes were as wide as saucers.

'MUSKETEERS!' he bellowed and turned back into the room as Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan moved to positions in the hallway where they could see anyone coming out of the room.

'Dammit!' Renard cried as he was alerted to the musketeers.

Shots were fired on both sides but the gloom had meant that no-one was hurt. With the pistols spent there was no time to reload as this fight became a sword fight.

'WHERE IS HE?' Athos bellowed as the swords started to clang. Athos hadn't truly expected an answer.

'Cellar, second door on the left,' Simon had made his decision and Renard charged at him.

'TRAITOR!' the scarred man roared as Simon took a defensive position against him but Renard slammed him against the wall.

The other men charged the musketeers and it soon became apparent that the narrowness of the hall would cause problems. Elbows banged against the walls as the men constantly tried to take stock of each other and their friends. It would be easy to slip and hurt their own.

Aramis was lying down on the straw in his cell. It was now covered in his own blood but it was still better than the cold paved floor. He was actually rather surprised he still had it. He could hear noises from above him but he tuned them out. Any hopes of a rescue had gone when he had found out about his brother's fate. Or maybe it was Porthos making a nuisance of himself, Aramis smiled at his thought.

Porthos was taking on a brute of an opponent. Both men had dropped their swords in favour of fists in the narrow corridor. Porthos pushed his opponent into one of the make-shift bedrooms they had passed earlier and raised his eyebrows as he realised the room was large enough for a proper fight. The man charged as Porthos dodged and then connected with a blow to the man's back. The man wasn't very light on his feet and that made the large musketeer chuckle. During his time in the Court of Miracles Porthos had learnt how to be light-footed, even with his massive frame. His opponent clearly enjoyed secure footing so Porthos decided to test it.

Porthos moved swiftly onto one of the cots in the room daring the man to follow him. Follow him, he did. Porthos grinned as he moved from the cot to another knowing that the cots were unstable compared to the floor. Both men took a moment to gain their balance but Porthos was confident that he would win this.

D'Artagnan managed to manoeuvre his opponent in to a different room and spotted Aramis' saddle and supplies. Some had clearly been opened but he focused his attention on the man before him.

'He's a broken man now,' the man teased. 'Cried and wailed. Your deaths will add to that,' he grinned showing yellow teeth.

'Really?' D'Artagnan raised an eyebrow, doing his best to make sure he didn't show his anger to the man. The man's grin faltered and that was the only opportunity D'Artagnan needed. He lunged forward catching the man off-guard and sliced through the man's side drawing blood.

'Fuck,' the man hissed with pain but quickly blocked D'Artagnan's following attack. For a moment the men were stood face to face, glaring into each other's eyes. D'Artagnan pushed himself away and drew his dagger from his back. The man did the same but the wound on his right side was bleeding freely as blood seeped through the man's shirt and onto the floor. He was breathing heavily but D'Artagnan had learnt not to underestimate such opponents.

Athos was once again facing Boucher in a fight. Having battled on the road both men had an idea about each other's fighting skills as well as their weaknesses. With Porthos and D'Artagnan in separate rooms the men had the majority of the hall. They circled and considered each other as Boucher grinned menacingly.

'Do you wanna know how much he screamed?' Boucher taunted Athos who managed to keep the expressionless mask that he usually wore in place.

'Not as much as you hoped, I'm sure,' a small smile crossed Athos lips as he cocked his head to the right slightly at the sight of the anger emitting from Boucher. Clearly Aramis hadn't been as cooperative and they had hoped.

Boucher lunged as Athos blocked the attack. Both men started to move quickly as the swords clashed loudly and forcefully. Athos smiled as he drew his dagger and Boucher followed suit. Though right-handed Athos had always been taught that using both hands was important. What if you right hand was injured? He was interested to see whether Boucher had learnt the same lessons.

Renard was furious as he held Simon up against the wall. The man had sided with the musketeers for reasons he could not fathom. Why would a man he trusted do such a thing? Before Renard could break out of his own thoughts Simon sent a well-aimed knee into Renard's groin and scrambled away as the scarred man buckled. Simon knew he had to stop Renard from getting to Aramis and give the musketeers time to win their own fights and get to their friend. He was a good fighter and he could use Renard's anger to his advantage.

D'Artagnan continued to fight his wounded opponent who was weakening quickly. D'Artagnan made sure he was on level ground as the man lunged once more almost managing to hit him. Almost. D'Artagnan quickly pirouetted behind the man and struck this time through the man's back. The man dropped his weapons with a clatter and D'Artagnan withdrew his sword, sending the man crashing to the ground, flinching before falling still.

D'Artagnan turned and carefully made his way out of the room. Athos was in a dogfight with the man he had fought on the road, Porthos was nowhere to be seen and Simon was currently standing off against Renard just before the stairs.

Simon looked over and saw D'Artagnan and Renard turned as well. Simon took advantage of the distraction and tackled Renard, pushing the scarred man further down the hallway where he was nearly trodden on by Boucher, leaving the stairs clear.

D'Artagnan ran for the stairs as he knew he needed to get to Aramis.

Aramis could still hear shouting and started to wonder what was happening. He had ruled out a rescue party and his thoughts fell on Simon. Was Simon being tortured because they found out he had helped him? Aramis hoped not but Renard was a vicious bully. He stayed where he lay as his exhaustion wouldn't allow him to move. His body was tired and whatever was happening, it was nothing to do with him. He curled up as tightly as he could as he shivered, wearing only his torn braies in his cell.

Porthos waited and challenged the other man to strike. The man tried to punch but missed as Porthos' punch connected with cheekbone and both men heard the crack. The man stumbled and fell hard on to the floor. Porthos approached carefully but not carefully enough and the man swung his left leg catching the back of Porthos' calf near the knee and sent the musketeer crashing face first to the floor. Porthos got his hands down in time but he was still slightly stunned. The man quickly managed sit on Porthos' back and wrapped an arm around Porthos' throat and started to squeeze. Porthos could feel his airway being crushed and quickly looked around the room. He managed to move over to one of the nearby cots and located a pistol which was underneath. He grabbed the pistol with his right hand and then reached above his head with his left as he managed to grab the man's doublet. With all his strength he pulled the man so he was tipping over his head. The man's grip loosened as he saw the pistol. That was all Porthos needed as the man's weight shifted forward on his back. Porthos managed to bend his knees and push himself up with the pistol still in hand as the other man tried to prise it from his fingers.

Now Porthos was resting on his hand and knees he tightened his grip on the man's doublet and used his leverage to throw the man completely over his head and making him slam into the floor with a loud thud. The man was winded but by now Porthos didn't care. He fired the pistol and red started to spread across the man's chest while his eyes went blank.

Athos watched as he saw D'Artagnan emerge unscathed from his room. His momentary distraction cost him as Boucher managed to slice his left forearm making him drop his dagger at the pain. Boucher loomed grinning as Renard was suddenly at his feet and Athos took the chance to slash back and this time on Boucher's upper right arm.

Renard seemed to forget the men in front of him as he fumed at Simon who looked just as determined. Renard charged his once friend and Boucher and Athos turned their attention back to each other. Athos noticed D'Artagnan dash for the stairs out of the corner of his eye and turned his attention back to Boucher.

The swords clashed again as Athos and Boucher mercilessly danced around each other flicking their wrists elegantly. Athos could see that Boucher was struggling and did his best to ignore his own wound. Athos watched closely and timed his attack. Boucher was faltering and was not covering with his left hand. Athos lunged and caught Boucher's left wrist causing the man to cry out in pain. He dropped the dagger and stumbled back against the wall. Athos wasted no time as he sliced across Boucher's torso and the man fell to the ground whimpering in pain.

Athos glared down at the man and recognised that the wound he had inflicted was fatal as he could see blood now starting to seep rapidly across the floor.

A shot rang out and Athos turned his attention to the room he knew Porthos had entered. He had heard the struggle but had assumed that Porthos would win. He ran to the room to find Porthos sat on the floor next to a body with blood spreading across its chest while Porthos was breathing heavily and his neck was reddening.

Renard was incensed and he considered Simon in front of him. The traitor had to die! Renard attacked viciously as Simon parried back. Both men were coursing with anger but Simon saw Boucher go down and could only assume that the large musketeer would win too. The youngest musketeer was already on his way to Aramis so Simon knew he just needed to hold up Renard a little longer.

D'Artagnan reached the bottom of the stairs and ducked as the guard for the cells swung his sword. The man went to shoot his pistol and D'Artagnan knocked it out of his hands. The man gave D'Artagnan as scared look as the musketeer ran him through. D'Artagnan didn't care whether this man had tortured Aramis or not. He had certainly kept Aramis locked up. D'Artagnan took the pistol and keys from the dead man's belt and rattled the second door on the left. Confirming that it was locked D'Artagnan tried the keys in the lock desperately hoping that Aramis was still alive.

Aramis lifted his head off the straw with a struggle as he heard commotion outside the cell. His heart lifted slightly as he realised that this could indeed be a rescue but his heart sank as he remembered his brothers' fate. He heard a clatter and a thud and a rattle on the door. He could here keys in the lock. Maybe Renard had come to finish him instead?

Renard caught Simon on his left leg and the man yelped in pain as he felt the sword slice at his flesh. Renard then elbowed him in the jaw making Simon stumble but Simon would not go down easily. He landed a blow of his own across Renard's chest making the scarred man growl. They moved closer to the stairs as Simon started to struggle to fend off Renard's attack.

The cell door opened.

'Aramis!' D'Artagnan rushed to his brother who lay there stunned to see his youngest brother. This wasn't possible. D'Artagnan started to unlock the manacles but Aramis grabbed his hands.

'One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten,' he counted and whimpered in relief while D'Artagnan just looked at him bewildered. Aramis saw the look as tears welled up in his eyes. 'You have all your fingers,' he said with his voice thick with emotion.

'Last time I checked,' D'Artagnan replied as Aramis slumped back on to the straw.

'They didn't have you,' Aramis said in an almost whisper but D'Artagnan realised what must have happened.

'They never had us Aramis,' he said quickly as he finally released the manacles and quickly lifted Aramis into his arms, his own eyes prickling with tears. 'They never had us,' he repeated as Aramis started to sob into D'Artagnan's shoulder. 'We're here now.'

Athos pulled a recovering Porthos to his feet and they emerged into the hallway just as Renard struck. He sliced across Simon's body causing a deep wound on the man's right side. Simon fell to his knees as Renard raised his sword. Renard sensed someone behind him and glanced towards Athos and Porthos and decided instead to descend the stairs as Athos and Porthos ran over to Simon.

Simon felt the pain across his side and for a moment knew nothing else. His hand went to the wound as he felt the wetness of the blood escaping his body. Renard's feet were in front of him and he knew it was the end. Renard would finish him. It was over.

Renard cursed Simon as he jumped the last few steps knowing that the other musketeers would soon be behind him. He realised the cell door was open and held his sword in front of him. The youngest musketeer was holding Aramis in his arms.

'How sweet,' Renard said sarcastically as D'Artagnan and Aramis let go of each other. Renard's sword was at D'Artagnan's back as he then turned to face Renard. D'Artagnan gave himself as wide a stance as possible to try and cover Aramis. 'I want him not you,' Renard said calmly but D'Artagnan just smiled back. Neither man noticed Aramis who was currently fighting the pain in his body.

Athos and Porthos reached Simon as he started to fall. They managed to sit him against the wall near to the stairs.

Simon opened his eyes to see looks of concern and could see that the larger musketeer was panting heavily and his neck was red.

'Go,' Simon managed quietly. 'He needs you.'

BANG!

Renard screamed in pain as the shot hit his right knee as Aramis had picked up the pistol D'Artagnan had left beside him.

'That was a little close for comfort,' D'Artagnan remarked smirking slightly at Aramis who had fired the pistol through the younger man's legs while still lying down.

'D'ARTAGNAN!' the twin roars came as Athos and Porthos heard the shot from above.

'In here!' D'Artagnan shouted back as he moved to take the sword from the now whimpering Renard. Running footsteps could be heard as Athos and Porthos appeared in the doorway.

Both took one look at Aramis and earthly growls emitted from both men. Porthos stormed over to Renard and slammed him against the wall of the cell.

'That is my brother,' he growled in Renard's face. Renard couldn't hide his fear as Porthos let him down and then punched him hard. Porthos' fist connected with Renard's left temple but the force caused Renard's right temple to hit the wall knocking him out instantly.

Athos moved to crouch down next to Aramis who was still looking with disbelieving eyes. His brothers were alive and were in front of him. The Duke had lied but Aramis realised that he had never truly been convinced. He had known that something wasn't quite right. Aramis suddenly found himself in Athos' arms and realised how worried they must have been for the man to show this much emotion.

'We've got you now,' Athos whispered and Aramis couldn't stop his eyes filling with tears of relief and he clung tightly to his friend.

'Quit hoggin' 'im,' Porthos' voice stirred the men after a moment. Porthos' eyes connected with Aramis' and the well of fear that still radiated from the larger man caused a lump to form in Aramis' throat.

Porthos moved once Athos had released Aramis and scooped Aramis up into his arms. Aramis winced slightly but he also knew he wasn't going to be able to walk. Athos and D'Artagnan quickly moved Renard and secured him in the manacles that had kept Aramis prisoner.

'You had us worried,' Porthos sniffed, his voice scratchy as he looked Aramis in the eyes. Porthos carried Aramis out of the cell that had been his prison and Athos locked the door.

'Your neck,' Aramis look horrified at the redness of Porthos' neck where he had been held in a choke hold.

'It's nothing compared to you,' Porthos could see the cuts and bruises and seriously wanted to tear Renard to shreds.

Aramis drew his arms fully around Porthos' neck before mumbling, 'This is not dignified.' Porthos let out a chuckle at Aramis' words and looked down to see a small smile on Aramis' face. D'Artagnan laughed and shook his head while Athos' eyes settled for a twinkle of amusement.

They climbed the steps and suddenly heard ragged breathing.

'Simon,' Aramis tried to climb from Porthos' arm so Porthos gently laid him on the floor. Aramis saw the wound on Simon's right side and winced as Simon looked at him through hazy eyes.

'They...came for you,' Simon sighed quietly. He had struggled to stay awake as he wanted know that Aramis was safe with his friends.

'He helped us, Aramis,' Athos said quietly as Aramis continued to study Simon.

'Made...a...decision,' Simon was struggling to breathe now.

'Thank you, for helping me,' Aramis looked at the man had who helped when he didn't have to.

'Don't be...sad,' Simon looked at Aramis. 'I'm not a...a...good man.' Aramis shook his head but Simon simply smiled. 'I kil...killed innocents...the...the...Quee...lady...because...I was tol...told to. I cho...chose...to...help...you,' Aramis took Simon's hand even though it was slick with blood. 'Did somefin...right,' Simon's weak smile nearly made Aramis collapse himself. His only ally in this terrible place was dying in front of him.

'And we will be forever grateful,' Athos knelt beside Aramis as Porthos and D'Artagnan grouped around them for support.

Simon offered a weak smile as his eyes closed. Aramis' fingers went to Simon's neck as he still felt the faint heartbeat. A couple of minutes later and the heartbeat had stopped and Aramis placed a hand on Simon's chest and felt no rise and fall. Simon was gone.

* * *

 **A/N: Next update will be in a fortnight or so as I won't have time to write. I know I left it in a bit of a horrible place but our boys are back together. :)**

 **Thank you for sticking with this and I will update when I get a chance. :)**


	33. Chapter 33

**Hello. I'm back. Just to let you know that I passed my Viva and I am now a Doctor of Science! :)**

 **I hope the delay wasn't too long. Thank you to the guests that commented as I can't respond to you individually. :)  
**

 **The event near the end of the chapter may split some opinions but I'll be happy to hear whether you liked it or not. Hope you enjoy it! :)**

* * *

Chapter Thirty – Three

Aramis sat staring at the body of Simon. The man had done what he could to help a man he didn't know. Aramis didn't doubt that Simon had killed innocents because he was told to but he knew that Simon obviously did not relish his role like some. He was grateful to the still man for all of his help.

Porthos lifted Aramis away from the site and they watched as Athos and D'Artagnan laid Simon's body flat before D'Artagnan spread a blanket over the body.

'C'mon,' Porthos said quietly as he carried Aramis into the make-shift kitchen that was warm as D'Artagnan added more wood to the blazing fire. Athos cleared the table and Porthos placed Aramis down gently.

Finally, in the light of the kitchen the musketeers got to see the damage inflicted upon their brother. His ribs were clearly bruised but it was the cuts that infuriated the musketeers. The two large cuts from Aramis' shoulders to his nipples were clearly showing signs of infection.

'What happened to your nails?' D'Artagnan asked suddenly noticing the blackness of Aramis' fingernails.

Porthos growled and Athos looked slightly sick as they realised what had happened. Athos noticed Aramis had seen the box on the side table and moved across. He opened it to find the needles and one that was still covered in blood.

'Athos,' Aramis said quietly. 'You know what you need to do.' Athos looked up forlornly but he was aware of the treatment needed. The treatment would certainly cause Aramis more pain but it needed to be done.

D'Artagnan left suddenly surprising the others but soon returned carrying Aramis' medical supplies.

'Saw them during the fight,' he shrugged. Aramis' thoughts dashed to Fidget and tears well up in his eyes.

'D'Artagnan, go and get the horses and bring them down here,' Athos ordered quietly while Aramis got the impression the older man wanted to make sure D'Artagnan wasn't present for the unpleasant treatment he was about to inflict.

'Clever horse you got there,' Porthos smiled as he started adding ingredients to a pan to make a stew. Aramis looked confused as Athos twigged what had happened.

'Fidget's ok,' he held Aramis' hand. 'He found us. He's the reason we found you.'

'They lied about everything,' Aramis looked down at his legs and suddenly realised how undressed he was. It wasn't something his brothers hadn't seen before but he was still a little uncomfortable and now they were aware of his injuries Porthos was clearly trying to stop his anger from boiling over while Athos' posture was stiffer than usual.

'This will hurt, Aramis,' Athos said quietly as he took one of the needles from the box. Athos gave Aramis fingernails a slight tug to see if any were loose and found that surprisingly they were all still tight to the nail bed.

'I thought some of them would fall out,' Aramis said quietly. His eyes were beginning to droop as the adrenaline of the rescue started to wear off. Porthos noticed quickly and moved Aramis to the end of the table and held his body upright as gently as he could, doing his best not to put pressure on the cuts that covered Aramis' chest. Athos moved to the fire and heated the needle and returned to the table. He was hesitant as he knew it would cause Aramis more pain.

'Just do it,' Aramis breathed as he braced himself.

Athos placed the heated needle over Aramis' right thumb nail and gradually started to twist it, drilling a hole in the nail to release the pressure. Athos held Aramis' hand still as Porthos let Aramis lean back on his chest and took hold of Aramis' right arm.

'Arrgghh!' Aramis let out a scream as the needle punctured the nail but soon he felt relief as the blood started to seep out of the hole releasing the pressure.

'On the bright side, just nine more to go,' Porthos tried to lift the mood and chuckled slightly at Aramis' glare.

Athos continued his work on Aramis' fingers and was nearly finished when D'Artagnan returned. The Gascon took one look and felt sick as he saw Athos making holes in Aramis' nails. The blood was dripping onto the torn braies Aramis was wearing and D'Artagnan could see the pain etched on his brother's face.

'Last one,' Athos said as he took Aramis' left thumb in hand. Aramis was clearly exhausted and cold but they didn't want to clothe him until they had seen to his wounds. Aramis braced himself as Athos punctured the last nail and the blood dripped free.

'Done now,' Porthos said quietly as Aramis' exhaustion meant he was completely leaning on Porthos' chest and was no longer able to hold himself up.

'We need to clean the cuts and then we can let him sleep,' Athos said quietly.

'I can hear you,' Aramis' replied grumpily but his eyes were closed making Athos and Porthos exchange looks of slight amusement.

'D'Artagnan,' Porthos indicated he should help him lay Aramis down on the table. Porthos moved over to the stew and finally stirred it, 'Can you burn stew?' he looked up seeing D'Artagnan smirking.

'Athos, your arm,' D'Artagnan noticed and Athos just shrugged.

'A scratch,' he said dismissing it but he received twin look of concern. 'We'll sort it after we've sorted Aramis.'

'Sort what?' Aramis blurrily opened his eyes.

'I have a scratch on my arm,' Athos started as Aramis suddenly tried to look at Athos' arm. 'It doesn't require your attention and probably doesn't need stitches. Lie down,' Athos said forcefully to Aramis who looked dubious but finally obeyed.

'We need to clean these,' D'Artagnan said quietly looking at the cuts on Aramis' torso and legs.

'I think they're already infected,' Aramis admitted quietly as he shut his eyes, missing the exchanged looks of worry between his brothers. If the infection had already started then they all knew Aramis could be in trouble.

Aramis dozed as Athos and D'Artagnan made quick work of cleaning the wounds on Aramis' torso and legs, both looking at each other nervously as they realised that infection was starting to set in. They decided to stitch the larger cuts but the smaller cuts were already starting to plug again after their wash and they decided it was better to leave them. Aramis hissed as the stitches were put in place but he wasn't really lucid anymore as he tried to doze. Porthos got the stew finished and was plating it as Athos and D'Artagnan finished. For once Athos was proud of his needle work. Aramis always said he was the worst.

'I'll get his spare clothes,' D'Artagnan said but Porthos stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulders.

'His shirt and braies will brush over the wounds,' Porthos said as he looked Aramis over. 'Mine are far too big but it may give the wounds room to heal if they're not constantly touched by fabric.'

'Good idea,' Athos agreed as Porthos moved over to his bags that D'Artagnan had retrieved from the horses.

'What's good idea?' Aramis mumbled. He knew he'd dozed off but he could hear them talking.

'Oh, good. You're awake,' Porthos smiled while Aramis groaned slightly as Athos and D'Artagnan propped him up. 'Today my stylish friend, you will be wearing my clothes.' Porthos grinned as Aramis rolled his eyes.

'They'll swim on me,' he moaned.

'Are you calling me fat?' Porthos tried some more humour.

'No, merely...larger than me,' Aramis replied by yawning in the middle. Athos and D'Artagnan exchanged amused looks. They hoped the fact that Aramis was in good spirits was a good sign.

'Right, let's get this shirt on you,' Porthos said as Aramis just let the others manoeuvre his arms about to get them into the shirt that was basically swallowing him.

'We'll need to cut those,' D'Artagnan said pointing to the torn and bloody braies.

'Just watch where you're cutting, alright,' Aramis knew it had to be done and there was no shame in being uncovered but still it wasn't the most pleasant thing, plus he was cold.

Athos quickly cut away the material and they all managed to get Aramis covered quickly. Aramis couldn't help but laugh as he looked ridiculous but his wounds weren't rubbing against the material which was the point of it.

Aramis was swiftly lifted down from the table into one of the chairs and then found a plate of stew in front of him. He knew he wouldn't be able to eat much as his stomach was weak from lack of food but he hadn't really been starved which was good thing. He took a sip of the surrounding broth and found it tasted nice.

'Not bad, Porthos,' he teased but he could already feel his energy levels waning and could feel his brothers' glares upon him.

Aramis managed a few mouthfuls but could already feel his stomach starting to fuss. He drank some water offered by Athos and then he collapsed back in the chair exhausted.

D'Artagnan and Athos disappeared and then reappeared carrying one of the cots that had been in the makeshift bedrooms. Together they slowly laid Aramis down on the cot and covered him in several blankets.

Finally reunited, they knew trouble still lay ahead of them.

* * *

Rochefort was once again pacing in his study. He hoped that Renard and the Duke had managed to keep the musketeers away from Aramis but most importantly that they had kept their mouths shut! Any hint of his implication in Aramis' abduction, or heaven forbid the Queen's, he would be ruined.

He continued to pace. The Duke would surely have anticipated the musketeers but Renard would also make sure that Aramis could never be found. Rochefort took a deep breath to calm himself. Unless the musketeers could prove he was involved he was safe. He could merely point out that he had no idea what would happen when he sent Aramis to the Duke.

He could only hope that the men hadn't let anything slip and had made sure Aramis couldn't be found. He was fine, for now.

* * *

'Remind me what you overheard about timing, D'Artagnan?' Athos asked as they sat around the table while Aramis looked peaceful as he slept.

'Renard told the Duke to send no-one here tomorrow or the day after,' D'Artagnan repeated.

'That gives us a two day window,' Porthos said thoughtfully.

'If we can get Aramis out of here without being seen we should be able to get to Paris by tomorrow evening,' Athos stated in his monotone. 'Then we may be able to get the King's consent to arrest the Duke before he realises what's happened.'

'We may have to tilt it towards the Duke being involved in the Queen's abduction but the King will surely want to speak to the Duke for that,' D'Artagnan agreed.

'What about our prisoner?' Porthos growled.

'I think we'll have to leave him here,' Athos sighed as he knew it wasn't ideal. 'If we take him with us he will do all he can to slow us down and attract attention.'

D'Artagnan and Porthos nodded.

'What we gonna do about Rochefort?' Porthos growled loudly and Aramis flinched slightly in his sleep as Porthos looked slightly guilty.

'We can't do anything,' Athos sighed.

'Surely we could-' D'Artagnan started.

'We have no proof,' Athos cut across him. 'Unless the Duke confesses to the King that Rochefort was involved we can do nothing. Rochefort will point out that he couldn't have known what would happen and he just figured that Aramis would be best to deliver the letter. He is too close to the King so our proof must be irrefutable.'

'I'm going to see the prisoner,' D'Artagnan said as he stalked down to Renard's cells. He was struggling with the fact that Aramis had been targeted and so badly hurt. He unlocked the cell door and was for a moment stunned.

Renard was smiling but his complexion was looking rather grey and then D'Artagnan noticed the empty vial near his feet. D'Artagnan picked up and sniffed it.

'I'm going nowhere with you,' Renard grimaced slightly. 'I'll die here rather than at the gallows.'

D'Artagnan stormed out and arrived back in the kitchen with a thunderous look. Athos and Porthos looked surprised at his demeanour when D'Artagnan placed the empty vial on the table.

Athos sniffed it,' Hemlock,' he said quietly.

'He drank poison,' Porthos sighed. 'Didn't think to check him.'

'Nor did I,' Athos tone was curious though and that caught the others attention. For a moment there was silence as Athos considered the vial as though it had hidden properties that needed to be unlocked.

'Athos?' D'Artagnan asked quietly as he sat down beside the older man.

'From the smell I think this may have originally been used as a medicine,' Athos pondered. He looked up to see two confused faces in front of him. 'Hemlock is poisonous but has in the past been used to treat maladies, although because of its poisonous contents careful administration is needed.'

'Why d'you think this is medicinal?' Porthos asked quietly as he stole a glance towards the sleeping form of Aramis.

'It doesn't smell particularly strong,' Athos mused. 'When Aramis wakes we can ask him as he will most likely know.'

'Will it kill Renard?' D'Artagnan asked Athos.

'It depends how full the vial was,' Athos said quietly. 'If it was full then yes, it will kill him. But it will be a prolonged and painful death. How did he look?'

'He looked a bit grey and was holding his stomach. He did grimace slightly,' D'Artagnan informed them.

'Whatever happens, he's in for a rough time,' Porthos said as he moved to lie down next to Aramis.

Dawn broke quicker than expected but the musketeers knew that time was of the essence to get Aramis back to Paris. Although weak, he had slept fairly comfortably with only a couple of occasions where Porthos had needed to soothe him. He never woke up from the dreams.

They managed to get Aramis to eat some bread and D'Artagnan manged to poach an egg for him. Aramis's stomach was still weak and he could already feel his body slightly rising in temperature. He decided not to tell the others as that would just make them panic.

'Aramis,' Athos made sure he had the marksman's attention. 'What do you make of this?' Athos handed over Renard's vial. Aramis sniffed and a look of realisation appeared on his face.

'It's hemlock,' he confirmed Athos' suspicions. 'Very watered down. Likely used for medicinal purposes. Why?'

'Our friend downstairs drank it,' Porthos grumbled.

'Was it full?' Aramis asked.

'Don't know,' D'Artagnan sighed. 'Just found it on the floor when I went to check on him.'

'Even if it was full, he'll be in agony for days,' Aramis said quietly. 'It will kill him in the end.'

'That's what I thought,' Athos said looking glum.

'Good,' D'Artagnan said strongly causing the others to look at him curiously. 'What? He deserves it!' The volume of D'Artagnan's voice was raising with each word and he was now on his feet. 'After what he did to Aramis he should die in pain!' D'Artagnan looked confused at the calm demeanours of his brothers. 'He wanted you to die in the most painful way possible!' the younger man's eyes locked with the marksman's.

'You're right D'Artagnan, it is what he deserves,' Aramis agreed quietly.

'But?' D'Artagnan demanded.

'We're not like him,' Athos said quietly placing a hand on D'Artagnan's shoulder and pushing him gently back into his chair.

'We don't revel in others pain,' Porthos looked D'Artagnan in the eye. 'If we did we'd be no better than them.'

'So we will go down there and ask him some questions, which I doubt he'll answer, and then I'll shoot him,' Athos stood up but D'Artagnan still looked confused.

'Mercy,' D'Artagnan looked towards Aramis, 'is what separates us from them. Rarely do we leave opponents to die painfully. We finish them off. It can be addictive to enjoy other people's pain but in the end it only eats away at you. As much as I hate Renard I know that I am a better man than him...so I will show him the mercy that he didn't afford me.'

D'Artagnan found himself nodding. His anger had taken over but he also knew that leaving Renard there to die in pain would indeed eat away at him. D'Artagnan and Porthos helped Aramis down the stairs, (he refused to be carried), and Athos unlocked Renard's cell door.

Renard was curled over as his liver and stomach started to cramp. Hemlock was a poison and he didn't understand why it hadn't killed him yet! He threw up into the bucket that had originally been placed there for Aramis. His stomach was mainly empty now but bile kept surfacing. He was shivering and his body was wracked with pain.

He was supposed to be dead. Why wasn't he dead?

He heard the door open and the musketeers stood in front of him. Aramis still looked unwell and was propping himself up against the door frame but the others had faces like thunder.

'Come to gloat,' Renard managed to growl out before another wave of pain hit him.

'There are a few questions we want to ask you,' Athos said in a bored voice.

'You can't understand why you aren't dead yet, can you?' Aramis question caught Renard off guard and he shook his head before realising what he had done. 'I know why.' Renard almost gave Aramis a pleading look and Aramis couldn't help but momentarily enjoy the role reversal.

'So...you're Vincent's brother,' Athos looked at Renard curiously.

'How did you know?' Aramis looked perplexed as he hadn't filled them in on why Renard wanted them.

'Similar mannerisms and it's been eating away at me. Then I realised that the Duke was an ally of Marie de Medici,' Athos looked rather smug.

'So this is about the baby?' Porthos supplied.

'I believe that is likely as it was Aramis' grip that baby Henry slipped out of,' Athos smirked.

'You're annoying, you know that?' Aramis shot back. All the while Renard continued to squirm on the floor.

'Yes, that was what it was about,' he grimaced. 'You cost me my brother and the Duke the position he should have had.'

'Why kidnap the Queen?' D'Artagnan asked.

'You have traitor in your court,' Renard grinned. 'I suppose you realised Rochefort was involved.'

'We had thought so,' Athos again sounded bored. 'So Rochefort wanted you to kidnap the Queen in return for Aramis?'

'Yes,' Renard started coughing and it took a minute or so for him to regain his composure. Aramis was struggling to stand and D'Artagnan moved closer so Aramis could put some of his weight on him. 'Wanted the Musketeers disgraced. We tried to attack before but I didn't think you'd be so difficult to beat. I went to Rochefort because he commanded the Red Guards. It was his plan so that the Red Guards would carry favour but you weren't meant to be there. He said he'd send Aramis to us.'

The musketeers were surprised that Renard would give this kind of information so easily but they also realised it was worthless as Renard would be dead and they would have no proof of Rochefort's plan.

'The Duke was part of this plan?' Athos asked suddenly looking far more interested.

'Obviously,' Renard shot back sarcastically.

'If the Duke testifies against Rochefort then we've got 'im but if he doesn't we'll never have enough proof,' Porthos said angrily.

'Rochefort's slimy,' Renard huffed and grimaced. 'Funny though, if anyone can be his downfall I think it may be you lot. One thing,' he looked to Athos, 'how did you find us?'

'The horse.'

'Bloody hell,' Renard cursed as he rolled in on himself again. 'I should've shot the bloody thing!' Renard gave out a long moan as his body was racked with pain.

'That hemlock wasn't very strong,' Aramis said quietly. 'It'll be days like this.' Renard curled tighter as he realised that Aramis was right.

Athos removed his pistol from his belt and moved closer to Renard who looked up at him with curiosity. 'Ask me?' was all Athos said.

Renard felt a lump in his throat as he realised he was being offered a merciful death. He knew that these men wouldn't offer it to tease him as that would go against their honour. Why would they offer it?

'Why?' he croaked in disbelief. 'Why would **you**...show me mercy?'

'Because it's what separates us from you,' D'Artagnan repeated the words Aramis had used earlier and felt the marksman squeeze his shoulder lightly. 'We don't revel in your pain, even if you deserve it.'

Renard finally felt his anger clear. The anger he had lived with for year. The anger that had caused him to seek revenge.

'There wasn't a baby in the blankets, was there?' his realisation showing on his face. Aramis just shook his head.

'Ask,' Athos said quietly but the command in his voice was clear. A part of Renard didn't want to give in but the pain racking his body was screaming very loudly. He would die here but he now had a choice. A couple of days of pure pain or the swift end at the hands of his enemies.

'I know I don't deserve it...but I beg you...have mercy,' he looked into the cold icy stare above him and heard the shot fire as blackness engulfed him.

'We have to hope that the Duke will rat on Rochefort. We can't let him get away with this,' Porthos growled.

Aramis looked at the lifeless body of his tormentor. A small part of him was triumphant but mostly he pitied the man who had lived his life in anger for the past year. Aramis was aware that the torture inflicted on him may yet have greater consequences but he was glad that Renard wasn't suffering in pain, no matter what the man had done to him.

Aramis felt himself be picked up by Porthos' strong arms and gave a moan.

'No-one's here to see the dignity you've lost,' Porthos grinned as Aramis rolled his eyes.

They re-entered the kitchen and Aramis was checked over. The two large cuts were still showing signs of infection despite being cleaned the night before. They were becoming very itchy but Aramis neglected to tell anyone this. Due to the uncomfortable ride ahead they decided to bandage Aramis so as not to cause the wounds to reopen. This meant that not only was he wearing clothes far too big for him but he now looked like a mummy underneath. This was greatly amusing to the other musketeers but Aramis did manage to point out that he was in charge of their medical needs and could easily retaliate. Well, he hoped that would be the case.

Aramis' energy levels were truly waning again and as much as he wanted to ride alone he knew that he was riding with Porthos and that was that. That didn't mean he wouldn't do his best to moan loudly about it though.

Aramis was led out into the open for the first time in days. It was good to feel the wind in his hair but for once he was glad that the day was overcast. No hot sun. With Porthos' help he gingerly made his way over to Fidget who was currently tied to Zad.

'Hello boy,' Aramis said as he reached his horse. Fidget, clearly recognising Aramis' state, very gently nudged the marksman's shoulder as Aramis stroked his nose. 'I here you're a hero. You brought them to me.' Fidget nodded slightly as if confirming Aramis' statement. Aramis tickled his chin as he knew his horse liked as Fidget breathed down into Aramis' hair.

Soon Porthos dragged him away as Athos and D'Artagnan helped him sit in front of Porthos. Aramis was exhausted and he leant back against Porthos' strong chest and closed his eyes. He didn't see Porthos' smile but he could feel it in the big man's chest.

They'd been travelling for a few hours with Aramis sleeping for most of the way. The day was overcast but Porthos was gradually becoming worried as he could feel Aramis' warmth against him. Aramis was too warm.

They stopped for lunch but Porthos took the chance to feel Aramis' forehead again. He was hotter than he should be.

'Porthos?' Athos questioned.

'He's too hot,' came the reply.

* * *

 **A/N: From what I could find hemlock was used to treat maladies such as asthma and breathing difficulties. It is very poisonous though so a lot of knowledge was needed to stop poisoning by asphyxiation. As far as I can tell there is still no cure if the concentration of hemlock is too high, although it has been used to counteract other poisons.**


	34. Chapter 34

**Hi. This chapter turned out a bit longer than I thought. It was also a bit more difficult to write than I thought so I hope it's ok. I also, for some reason, kept changing between past and present tense but I think I caught it all.**

 **Anway, just a reminder that I own nothing and all mistakes are mine. If I've made a howler let me know. Enjoy. :)**

* * *

Chapter Thirty – Four

'I'm fine,' Aramis mumbled even though he knew he wasn't fooling anyone.

'Pass him down, Porthos,' Athos' voice was slightly panicked and the only time this happened was when he was seriously concerned for someone's wellbeing. Namely, his brothers' wellbeing.

Porthos passed Aramis down to Athos and D'Artagnan who quickly laid him down on the ground as Porthos dismounted.

'I'm fine,' Aramis grumbled again but he realised his eyes had been closed as he finally opened them to reveal a rather concerned looking Athos staring back. Athos' hand touched Aramis' forehead and although Aramis was warm they weren't quite at panic stations yet. Yet.

D'Artagnan appeared with a water-skin that Aramis drank greedily from. He felt his vision clear slightly and realised he was sat on the ground with the absolute attention of all three of his brothers.

'I'm-'

'Say your fine and I'll hit yer,' Porthos interrupted looking worried.

'Well I won't be fine if you do that,' Aramis tried to smile back but the humour fell flat.

The musketeers quickly ate lunch (Aramis managed a small piece of bread) before D'Artagnan checked that Athos' wound was showing no signs of infection and thankfully it wasn't. The bruises on Porthos' neck had started to blossom but he wasn't experiencing any problems swallowing which was lucky, although his voice did seem deeper and scratchier than usual.

They unwound Aramis to find that not the two big cuts were infected but some of the others were a little red as well. The large wounds were red and looked inflamed and had some pus on the outside.

Aramis was well aware of the state he was in.

'Just clean around the smaller ones with water if you can and try not to disturb the scabs but the bigger ones might need draining and getting to Paris would be best for that,' he said as he grimaced slightly.

'You never take a rest, do you?' D'Artagnan quipped making Aramis smile back weakly.

The musketeers quickly got to work and decided against bandaging Aramis again. Porthos declared he couldn't care less about his shirt and right now he really couldn't.

They knew they needed to get Aramis to a doctor quickly and packed up as soon as they were able. This time Aramis was riding with Athos to give Flip a break.

Although Athos rarely showed emotion it didn't mean he didn't feel it. Aramis hadn't fought them when it was suggested that he ride with Athos. Although it was the sensible course of action Athos had expected Aramis to at least sulk and pout playfully knowing that the decision had already been made. He hadn't and that worried Athos even more. Aramis was leant against his chest and Athos held on tight and kept checking the sleeping man's temperature and was carefully watching his breathing. So far there had been little change to Aramis' condition but Athos resolved to be on alert in case that changed.

The rest of the journey was quiet as worry spread through the musketeers. Aramis was oblivious to them as he slept quietly in Athos' arms.

* * *

Queen Anne had decided to take a walk around the gardens alone. Louis was currently being sickeningly sweet with his mistress and Anne just wanted to get away from it all. He was never like that with her. She was also very worried about Aramis and wanted to try and clear her head.

She desperately wanted to send a message to the Musketeer garrison to find out if he had returned but that would seem very suspicious and she couldn't afford to be seen favouring any musketeer in particular. Especially Aramis.

She sat down on the fountain's edge and felt the light water spray on her face as well as dampening her clothes slightly. It was rather refreshing even though the water evaporated rather quickly in the sunshine and heat.

She heard footsteps approaching and was about turn and tell the guards to keep their distance when she heard,' Are you alright, Your Majesty?' She turned to see Constance looking at her with a look of concern on her face before she quickly curtseyed.

'Constance,' Anne smiled and Constance returned it but it didn't reach her eyes. 'Sit with me,' she indicated the edge of the fountain, 'Unless you don't want to get wet,' Anne added as she realised she was sitting in the spray.

Constance smiled and quickly sat down relishing the relief from the heat and the sun.

'You're concerned about Aramis, aren't you?' Constance asked quietly. It was one of the things Anne liked about Constance, she spoke her mind. It was refreshing to hear somebody speak to her in the same way she spoke to others. All her other ladies said one thing to her face and another behind her back.

'Yes,' she answered truthfully. She could trust Constance to be discreet. 'Have you heard anything?'

'No,' Constance sighed. 'It seems that something must have happened,' she said dejectedly.

'You're worried about all of them, aren't you?' Anne asked quietly while she checked to see that nobody was within earshot.

'Not only did D'Artagnan storm into my life, he brought the other three with him!' Constance said in quiet exasperation. Anne smiled as she remembered Constance describing her first meeting with D'Artagnan at the market.

'I never took notice of the men that protected me until I truly needed them,' Anne confessed quietly. 'I have lived such a sheltered life with everything I want or need provided without trouble. That doesn't matter when a convict has a pistol at your neck,' Anne gave a small smile. 'The next thing I know I've been knocked to the ground with someone covering me to protect me.'

'Aramis,' Constance smiled knowingly before shelooked around but they were alone.

'Yes,' Anne had a slightly goofy smile on her face that made Constance recognise how she must look when D'Artagnan was mentioned. 'I have never really been touched by a man other than my husband before. Suddenly, I have Aramis' weight on top of me while pistols are blaring everywhere. But the difference was how he spoke to me. For a moment he saw me as a woman who was terrified, which I was, and he just tried to comfort me. He managed to collect himself but for once I wasn't the Queen I was just a woman. I'll admit I was rather smitten with him from then on. I was surprised at how jealous I was as well with how other women looked at him.'

'I'm the same with D'Artagnan,' Constance confessed. 'I didn't really think I was unhappy in my marriage until he came along.'

'Louis doesn't take much notice of me. As I told you before we're more friends than lovers,' Anne sighed. She couldn't tell Constance about her night with Aramis in case Constance worked out the truth. 'I never feel loved with him. That makes it difficult to have children although I had miscarried before my son was born.'

'I'm the same but D'Artagnan made me feel like he wanted me for who I am and it was such a difference-,' Constance suddenly tensed as she had just revealed the fact that she had committed adultery to the Queen! Constance suddenly started twiddling her thumbs in her lap as Anne's placed her hands over Constance's.

'Constance?' Anne called lightly. 'Constance?' Constance slowly lifted her head and looked at the concerned Queen.

'What must you think of me?' she blurted out. 'I'm...I'm...,'

'Lucky to have spent time with some you love,' Anne said quietly.

Constance couldn't understand why the Queen was being so nice. She had committed adultery and just confessed to it!

'It's alright Constance,' Anne smiled. 'You have no idea how many times I've wanted to jump on Aramis,' she said quietly making Constance huff a laugh. 'I do not judge you.' Constance could see the sincerity in the Queen's eyes and was grateful for it.

'It's not fair, is it?' Anne raised an eyebrow at Constance. Constance nodded to where Louis and Milady were in the distance. 'We live in a world where men can do want they want and we have to smile sweetly when we'd rather bash them on the head.'

Anne couldn't stop her laugh as Constance laughed beside her. Yes there were certainly times she had wanted to bash Louis on the head for being an idiot. Quite frequently actually.

If Louis and Milady were going to be in the gardens then Anne wanted to be nowhere near them.

'Let's go back to my chambers and dry out,' she suggested as Constance nodded. Anne was rather grateful to D'Artagnan for his suggestion of Constance as one of her ladies. She had finally found a true friend that she could trust.

* * *

Tréville was restless as he paced in his office, no his former office. Somebody else would take ownership soon. The Inseparables still hadn't returned and that only meant bad news. He knew that they would do everything they could to find Aramis but he couldn't help but fear the worst.

He decided to go and check on Joubert who was still recovering the infirmary with Gabriel by his side. He opened the infirmary door and was surprised to see Joubert leaning on Gabriel for support and clearly trying to exit the infirmary.

'Joubert?' Tréville questioned.

'Doctor says I can recover in my room, Captain,' Joubert huffed out. 'Don't wanna stay here.'

'Are you sure you're ready to move?' Tréville asked.

'Don't worry, Captain,' Gabriel smiled. 'I'm gonna make sure he does nothing stupid.'

'Let me help you,' Tréville took Joubert's other side and was instantly reminded about his ribs but he wasn't going to back out now.

Soon Joubert was in his room and Tréville quietly assessed his body. The ribs were still healing but he may have to think again before doing something like that. Aramis would most certainly scold him! Aramis. Tréville moved back to his office and poured himself a brandy. They weren't back yet.

* * *

The musketeers travelled for hours and Aramis was asleep for most of them. Athos was constantly checking Aramis' temperature which, for the moment, was remaining constant. Usually there would be much to talk about but none of the awake musketeers truly felt talking. Soon they were over a small hill and Paris was in sight.

'D'Artagnan,' Athos called and the younger man turned to face him. 'Give Fidget to Porthos. I want you to ride ahead and tell Tréville what has happened and get Dr. Lemay if you can.'

D'Artagnan nodded as he undid Fidget's reins and handed them to Porthos who attached them to Flip.

'I'll make sure everything is ready,' D'Artagnan to one more worrying glance towards the slumped form of Aramis and kicked Zad forward and charged towards Paris.

'How is he?' Porthos asked quietly.

'I'm tired,' came the surprise admission from Aramis who hadn't bothered to open his eyes.

'Since when have you been awake?' Athos asked with a slight droll in his voice.

'Heard you send D'Artagnan,' Aramis mumbled. 'We must be close to home now.'

'Why don't yer open yer eyes for us?' Porthos tried.

'Why?' came the quiet reply.

'Because that's what you always make us do,' Athos said gently rubbing Aramis cheek with his right hand. There was silence for a moment making Athos and Porthos think Aramis may have dropped off to sleep again.

'That's different.'

'How?'

'You get to look at me...but I have to look at you,' Aramis' mouth was curled into a small smile.

'Cheeky bugger!' Porthos laughed and even Athos managed a small chuckle.

'Open your eyes and I'll give you some water,' Athos said in a commanding voice after the laughter died down.

'Evil,' Aramis mumbled as he finally opened his eyes and Athos helped him drink the water. Once Aramis had finished they continued on their way hoping that D'Artagnan had managed to find a doctor.

* * *

D'Artagnan rode as quickly as he could through Paris before arriving in the garrison courtyard. He dismounted and quickly ran up to the office that Tréville still occupied. He knocked and heard a curt 'Come in' and saw Tréville look at him with a worried expression on his face.

'Aramis is in a bad way and we need to send for a doctor,' D'Artagnan rattled off while Tréville did his best not to show his worry.

'I'll send for Doctor Lemay and hope he is available,' Tréville scrawled on a piece paper and quickly left the office with D'Artagnan. He called one of the cadets over and told him to go directly to Doctor Lemay with no detours.

'What are Aramis' injuries?' Tréville asked as he and D'Artagnan made their way to the infirmary.

'He's very bruised and his fingernails are black,' D'Artagnan stopped for a moment to collect himself.

'And?' Tréville prodded.

'His chest is covered in cuts,' D'Artagnan's voice broke slightly as Tréville determined that these cuts were most likely infected.

'They're infected?' Tréville asked quietly as D'Artagnan nodded. Tréville moved closer to D'Artagnan and put an arm around his shoulders. D'Artagnan couldn't help but move into his captain's arms as he needed the comfort. 'You know Aramis...he's a stubborn old bugger,' Tréville said without letting go.

'I'll tell him you called him old,' came the slightly muffled reply making Tréville smile.

Finally they broke apart and sorted a bed in the infirmary before they went down to sit at the Inseparables' usual table to wait for the others to arrive. About half an hour later Athos, Porthos and Aramis entered the garrison and while Aramis was awake he wasn't looking very well. Athos passed Aramis down to Porthos and D'Artagnan and the musketeers made their way to the infirmary, slowly. Aramis had insisted that he could walk but Porthos soon lost patience and lifted him up into his arms.

Porthos placed Aramis gently onto one of the beds in the infirmary just as Doctor Lemay entered the room looking rather breathless.

'So, what's happened?' the doctor asked as he rolled up his sleeves as he regained his breath.

'He has bruising and his fingernails have been damaged but the main problem is that the cuts on his chest have become infected,' Athos stated matter-of-factly.

Lemay ushered them all out of the way to look at Aramis who was dozing on the bed.

'Have you managed to get him to drink water?' Lemay turned to the others.

'Athos is evil,' came the quiet response from the bed surprising everybody.

'Athos moved around the bed and sat next to Aramis. 'So I'm evil for making you drink water to keep you hydrated?' There was a quirk to Athos' mouth.

'Yes,' Aramis looked groggily up at Athos.

'Then I hate to tell you my friend,' Athos waited as Aramis made eye-contact, 'you're the most evil person here.' Aramis' eyebrows move towards each other in a frown. Athos put him out of his misery. 'Not only do you force water down our throats,' he indicated the others, 'you make us drink those foul concoctions as well!'

Athos was glad to see Aramis give a small smile as he muttered, 'Fair point.'

'We need to inform the King of recent developments,' Athos said quietly as he moved away to allow Lemay to inspect Aramis' wounds.

'I'm not leavin' 'im,' Porthos said with a threat of no argument.

'Didn't expect you to,' Athos shot back. 'We need to get to the palace now,' he said as he looked to Tréville and D'Artagnan who both nodded in return.

The three men walked towards the door of the infirmary all glancing back to see Lemay busying himself around Aramis while Porthos nodded from a chair near Aramis' bed.

* * *

Athos and D'Artagnan informed Tréville of everything they had found out about the Duke's involvement in Aramis' capture and torture as well as the Duke's involvement in the Queen's kidnapping. Tréville did not need to be told of Rochefort's involvement as he pointed out that technically they still had no evidence against the Comte before Athos could say anything.

They arrived at the palace and Tréville conceded that he thought it would be best if Athos addressed the King rather than him. Athos raised an eyebrow but didn't argue.

Soon they found themselves in the throne room where Louis was sat on his throne next to Queen Anne. Constance was stood next to the Queen and to everyone's disgust, Rochefort was stood next to the King.

'What have you come to tell me?' Louis asked rather petulantly as if he would rather be anywhere else.

'Sire, Aramis was captured and tortured by men of the Duke of Épernon,' Athos sent a small apologetic look towards the Queen who had manged to just about school her face but her eyes did look a little wide. 'We also believe that the Duke was involved in Her Majesty's capture and subsequent ransom.'

'WHAT?!' Louis flew of his throne and stormed towards Athos. 'The Duke dared to attack my Queen!'

'I'm afraid so,' Athos said quietly although he was rather annoyed that Louis seemed to have disregarded Aramis completely.

'And who gave you this information?' Rochefort asked icily suddenly worried that his part had indeed been found out. Athos turned to look Rochefort in the eye and Rochefort knew he had been rumbled.

'Aramis was able to tell us a lot about what happened but we also gained a lot of information from one of the Duke's men,' Athos said tersely.

'How is Aramis?' Anne's voice cut through the quiet.

'Yes, how is he?' Louis looked slightly abashed at forgetting Aramis was tortured.

Athos took a moment to guard his reply.

'Athos?' this time he heard the worry in the Queen's voice.

'He has some infected cuts and only time will tell whether he will recover,' Athos said looking at the floor trying to control his anger towards Rochefort and his worry for his brother.

A contemplative silence held the room as everyone there knew that infection could be fatal.

'Doctor Lemay is at your disposal,' Louis said quietly as he returned to his throne.

'Thank you, Majesty,' Athos said quietly as he decided not to tell Louis that they had already enlisted Doctor Lemay's help.

'What makes you so sure that the Duke is involved with the Queen's kidnapping and even knew about Aramis' torture?' Rochefort glared at Athos whose cold eyes stared back.

'That is a good point?' Louis looked back to Athos. 'The Duke's man could have been lying to save himself.'

'The man that tortured Aramis was the same man that we exchanged the prisoners with,' Athos kept his voice level.

'You mean the scarred man Renard?' the Queen's eyes were wide and for once Louis comforted her by taking her hand in his.

'The same man,' Athos nodded. 'Aramis also confirmed that the Duke visited him while being tortured and that he was clearly targeted buy the Duke. Renard himself implicated the Duke and admitted that there was a traitor in the Royal Court.'

'There are no traitor's in my Court, Athos,' the King waved away that suggestion. 'But this cannot go unpunished! I will not have my wife or my soldiers hurt!'

Athos stole a look at Rochefort and saw the man's face had hardened and the eye contact told each man what he knew.

The Queen suddenly stood and moved down the steps from her throne, 'Please excuse me,' she said as she rushed from the room and Constance followed her.

'Are you absolutely sure, Athos?' the King questioned. Athos knew that the King didn't want to make accusations against the nobility unless he had to.

'Yes, Sire,' Athos stared straight back. 'The Duke was in possession of Aramis' rather unique crucifix. It told us that Aramis was on his lands and that he knew about it.'

'What happened to the other man, Renard?' Rochefort asked silkily. 'Surely you could have brought him to testify?'

'He drank poison as we rescued Aramis but he was able to make sure that we knew the Duke was involved,' Athos said through gritted teeth as Rochefort relaxed slightly.

'So for all we know, what you have just said was a lie,' Rochefort was growing in confidence as he realised the musketeers had no proof of his involvement. Yet.

'I believe them,' Louis snapped. 'This scarred man. Renard. He links the Duke to my wife's attack and we know that he hurt one of my men! Hopefully Aramis will be able to testify and the Duke will realise he is cornered.'

'Majesty, with your permission we would like to ride at first light to arrest the Duke,' Tréville spoke for the first time.

'Yes, go and arrest him!' Louis waved a hand. 'Take the whole regiment Tréville. Athos, D'Artagnan and Porthos will serve as an effective reminder to the Duke that he can't be beaten by my men and the loyalty that binds them.'

'Forgive me, Your Majesty,' D'Artagnan spoke with a short bow. 'Would it be possible for one of us to stay behind with Aramis?'

'Are any of you physicians?' Louis stood looking rather annoyed at being contradicted.

'No, Sire,' D'Artagnan responded trying to hold back his anger.

'You are soldiers and your place is fighting for me,' Rochefort was smirking now as Louis bristled with annoyance that anyone would want to do something other than what he had commanded. 'Aramis will fine with the physicians and you will show the Duke my wrath. Is that clear?' Louis eyed them, beadily and D'Artagnan thought about retorting but Athos' hand squeezed his shoulder.

'Thank you, Majesty,' Athos bowed as did D'Artagnan and Tréville. 'We will leave at first light,' as the men finally left the room.

They started to walk down the hall to exit the palace all of them bristling with annoyance or rather fury.

'Porthos is **not** going to like this,' D'Artagnan said as they stopped momentarily near to the Queen's chambers.

'But we must do as we're told,' Tréville warned with a sigh.

'What's happened?' the Queen's voice disturbed them as they bowed her face was slightly red as it looked as though she had been crying. 'Captain?'

'His Majesty has sent us to arrest the Duke tomorrow,' Tréville sighed.

'Isn't that good?' Constance appeared but she could see all the frustrated lines on the men's faces.

'All of us,' D'Artagnan sighed but Constance and Anne still looked confused.

'None of us will be able to stay with Aramis,' Athos finally explained with a voice full of emotion that Anne had never heard before.

'I'll speak to Louis,' Anne said immediately but Tréville stopped her.

'He's made up his mind and we all know there will be no changing it,' he said sadly.

'Constance,' she turned to her friend. 'I'm relieving you of your duties with me. Aramis needs someone he knows with him.' Anne felt gratified in her decision as she saw the wave of relief pass over the musketeers in front her.

'Thank you,' Constance said and before she knew it she had embraced Anne who was willingly hugging her back. 'I'll take good care of him,' she said as they broke apart.

'You better,' D'Artagnan grinned slightly causing Constance to slap him on the arm.

'Get some sleep Constance,' Athos said. 'We leave at first light and won't be back until the day after.'

'I'll be there,' she nodded determinedly.

The musketeers left and their thoughts started to turn to tomorrow but they all knew that their most pressing problem was telling Porthos that he would have to leave Aramis' side.

* * *

'WHAT?!' Porthos roared as they told him their predicament in Tréville's office. They had decided to coax Porthos away from Aramis for a few minutes while Doctor Lemay watched the stricken marksman.

Aramis' condition had worsened slightly as his fever had risen but Lemay had unstitched the two big cuts and drained them of the infection. Aramis had been exhausted by the treatment and had promptly fallen asleep minutes afterwards. This was not the best time to leave him alone.

'The King's not serious?' he asked astonished.

'I'm afraid so,' Athos said pinching the bridge of his nose. 'He made a point that we should all go.'

'I tried...,' D'Artagnan started before looking helpless.

'Constance has agreed to stay with him,' Tréville added quietly.

'But what if he gets worse,' Porthos slumped into a chair as his voice cracked. Athos moved over to place his hands on the big man's shoulders.

'You know Aramis,' he said quietly. 'He's a stubborn arse and he fights all the way. He survived Savoy and he will survive this.'

'We need to get the regiment ready for tomorrow,' Tréville pointed out. 'Let's get everything ready so we can leave at first light and surprise the Duke.'

The men nodded and rose from their chairs.

'Once you've done that, I don't suppose there is much point in me telling you to go to your own beds to sleep,' Tréville raised an eyebrow but was met with three looks that told him they were staying with Aramis and that was that.

After collecting everything they would need the three musketeers settled in chairs in the infirmary at Aramis' bedside. They would not leave him until they had to.

* * *

 **A/N: For those of you wondering about Joubert, yes I completely forgot about him, I hope this settles any worry. :)**


	35. Chapter 35

**This is a shorter chapter than the last couple and will most likely be the last chapter before Christmas. I'll be honest that I struggled with this chapter a bit as it does rather just lay the scene and get everyone in the right place.**

 **Still love to hear your thoughts. I don't think I've left it on too much of a cliffhanger. Enjoy. :)**

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Five

Rochefort raced to his office after asking permission to leave the King. Athos knows! The musketeers know! Renard must have told them of his involvement but the musketeers couldn't prove it. Should they capture the Duke and the Duke spilled along with Aramis that would surely be enough for the King!

Rochefort forced himself to calm down. Renard was dead and it appeared that Aramis must have suffered greatly at the hands of Renard if he wasn't well enough to meet the King in person.

Firstly, he needed to warn the Duke and hope the pompous git made a run for it. Secondly, he would deal with Aramis who had none of his friends to protect him now that the King had ordered them to arrest the Duke. If he was in a bad way anyway it would be unlikely that anyone would find it strange if he died. Doctor Lemay was a problem he could fix as well.

Rochefort quickly scrawled a letter to the Duke but made sure he didn't use his own seal or sign his name. He called for one of his own men and thrust the letter into his hands.

'Take this to the Duke of Épernon. Do not speak to anybody else or tell them what you are doing,' Rochefort instructed harshly. 'If somebody asks I did not give you this letter and do not wear your uniform. Is that clear?'

'Yes, sir,' the soldier left and Rochefort once again tried to breathe deeply to calm himself.

Aramis could wait for now. The others would be gone at first light and hopefully he would have his chance to sort this mess out before it came back to bite him. What would his beloved Anne think if she knew the truth?

* * *

'I could stay and say I went with you,' Porthos looked pleadingly at the others as he sat by Aramis' side as dawn started to break.

'And if the King were to find out you defied him?' Athos said sternly although compassion was clear in his eyes.

'He's not well,' Porthos sighed as he looked at Aramis whose fever had risen during the night.

'I'm afraid I cannot say when or if he will recover,' Dr. Lemay said sadly.

'He will,' Porthos snapped and Lemay knew better than to argue and gave the larger man a sympathetic look.

'Porthos we have to go,' D'Artagnan said with his voice breaking a little as he looked at their stricken friend.

'This isn't fair,' Porthos growled as he stood. 'And I can't beat the hell out of the Duke either!'

'Afraid not,' Tréville said with his own sigh of resignation.

The door of the infirmary opened and Constance rushed in and headed straight for the sleeping Aramis.

'How is he?' her voice was racked with concern.

'His fever's gotten worse,' Lemay sighed as Constance pressed a hand to Aramis' forehead and then quickly removed her cloak.

'Constance...we have to go,' Athos sighed looking rather more emotional than Constance had seen him.

'Don't worry,' she said with empathy. 'I'll look after him.'

'Thanks,' D'Artagnan enveloped her in hug which she returned and then once they'd broken apart she pulled a rather surprised Athos into her arms.

'Thank you, Constance,' he said as she let go.

She hugged Tréville who hugged back before she stood before Porthos who was looking painstakingly at his stricken brother. She touched his chest to get his attention.

'I'll look after him, I promise,' she said before she hugged him tightly feeling his breath hitch at the comfort as he hugged back.

'I just don't wanna leave him,' Porthos had tears in his eyes as he looked at Aramis.

'Has anyone...asked my opinion?' came a stammered question from the bed as Aramis blinked wearily.

'You were asleep and therefore unavailable for consultation,' Athos stated in his best no-nonsense voice.

'Excuses,' Aramis huffed quietly. 'Go and arrest the Duke. I'll be here when you get back.' Aramis hoped the last part was true as he knew he was a dire condition and so did everyone else.

'You better be,' Porthos managed a small smile but it never reached his eyes. One by one they gave Aramis' hand a gentle squeeze before they left the infirmary, all looking back one last time before they walked through the door.

'Will I see them again?' Aramis asked Lemay who stood by his bed once the others had left.

'I honestly don't know,' the doctor replied with sincerity and Constance had to pull herself together at hearing this prognosis. 'Constance,' Lemay called to her and jolted her out of her thoughts. 'I've left some pain draughts and try to keep him as cool as possible and get him to drink some broth if you can,' he said quietly.

'He's in a bad way, isn't he?' she asked looking solemn.

'Only time will tell,' Lemay said looking despondent. 'If he gets worse send a message to me straight away.'

'I will,' Constance steeled herself as they moved towards Aramis.

'I have to go now, Aramis,' Lemay told the marksman. 'Madame Bonacieux will stay with you but I will be back to check on you later.' Aramis gave a short nod as Lemay took his leave.

'Constance,' Aramis called quietly as she moved to sit in the chair that had been Porthos' site for his vigil. 'Thank you.'

'Her Majesty sent me before I could even ask,' Constance smiled and took his hand and tried not to look disgusted at the state of his fingernails. 'Rest Aramis. You will win this battle.'

'If you say so,' he muttered before he shut his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Out in the garrison courtyard the musketeers were ready to set off and arrest the Duke of Épernon. Twenty men would be travelling with the cadets and the newest recruits remaining at the garrison. Unfortunately, many of the more experienced musketeers were already out on missions so Tréville had decided to use as many as he could without endangering Paris and the King. He was also determined that the Duke would be caught and punished to bring closure and justice to Aramis. Hopefully the Duke would also confirm Rochefort's role and they would be rid of that weasel for good.

'Porthos,' he called making the big man look up. 'You have to focus. There is no point in you getting hurt as well.' Porthos nodded but was still very subdued.

'We should get there before nightfall,' Athos said calmly. 'I think the cover of darkness will be our best ally as long as he hasn't been tipped off.' Tréville saw him glance towards the infirmary but he knew Athos could keep his head even if Porthos was struggling.

'I doubt he will come willingly,' D'Artagnan pitched in.

'Let's hope not,' a wry smile had appeared on Athos' face which Tréville questioned with a raised eyebrow. 'I only want to punch him,' Athos said before moving away and mounting his horse. 'I'll only punch him once.'

Tréville knew that his greatest problem may be controlling the three Inseparables from taking their revenge for their brother. In fact there was a part of him that would gladly smash in the Duke's face and get much satisfaction from it but he knew he had to steady himself and set the right example.

Soon the musketeers were ready and the convoy left the garrison and headed towards Épernon as the sun started to rise in the sky.

* * *

Rochefort knew the musketeers had left and could only hope that once Duke got his message the man would flee accordingly. Aramis was now his target and without the protection of his brothers Aramis was vulnerable.

'Doctor Lemay,' Rochefort called as the doctor did his rounds checking on the Dauphin as he often did. Thankfully the boy was well after his previous illness but it settled everyone to have the doctor check him over very so often.

'Yes,' Lemay turned to see Rochefort approach.

'There has been an outbreak of sickness that has involved Lady Francesca and other nobles here at court.' Rochefort knew this as he had added a mixture known to cause sickness into the afternoon soup. He needed to keep Lemay occupied. 'It would be best if you could deal with it.'

'Of course,' Lemay huffed but Rochefort saw his unease.

'What's wrong?' Rochefort questioned. 'Are there more important patients that the King's nobles?'

'I need to return to the musketeer Aramis,' Lemay said fidgeting and feeling uncomfortable.

'How is he?' Rochefort asked as politely as possible.

'Not well,' Lemay informed him. Rochefort had to do his best to conceal his smile.

'Surely there is another doctor that can treat the musketeer?' Rochefort said with a little heat. 'His Majesty's nobles are far more important than one soldier.'

Though he wasn't a violent man Lemay wanted to punch Rochefort right then. 'I shall send Dr. Jardin to Aramis,' he agreed.

'Well, that solves that problem,' Rochefort just about held back his smile as Lemay walked away.

Lemay quickly sent a message to Dr. Jardin telling him of Aramis' condition and his prescriptions. He also sent a note to Constance explaining why he wouldn't be coming back. He hoped she would forgive him as would the musketeers when they returned.

Rochefort was unaware of Constance's presence with Aramis but knew that with Lemay out of the way he could visit the stricken marksman himself. This time there would be no mistakes.

* * *

Rochefort's messenger appeared in Épernon an hour or so after midday. The Duke had been bored as Renard had made it clear not to visit the shack and he'd had no reports of the other musketeers still roaming his lands. He mused that they must have given up their search without finding their friend, for how could they have found Aramis?

The messenger handed over the note.

 _The Musketeers are coming._

 _Get out now._

That was all it said.

'Who is this from?' the Duke asked the messenger.

'The Comte de Rochefort,' the man answered. 'Forgive me but I must leave.'

'Yes. Yes,' the Duke waved him away. Why should he run? The musketeers had no proof of anything. All he had to do was deny every accusation. The foolish King would believe a noble and if he was caught Rochefort would go down with him. If it was just the three musketeers then he could dispose of them easily, like he had Aramis.

'You,' he pointed to one of his servants. 'Round up as many of my men in the area as you can.' The man bowed and left. The Duke didn't believe that Louis would send the regiment of musketeers, maybe a few more than just the other three friends of Aramis but no more than that. However, the Duke already knew how good these soldiers were and he didn't want to take any chances. Taking down Aramis' friends would be as satisfying as taking down the man himself. He twirled the golden crucifix that he had taken from Aramis in his fingers. He was rather looking forward to it.

* * *

Constance kept her vigil at Aramis' side as she kept cooling him and when he woke she made sure he drank some water and he even managed a few mouthfuls of broth. His temperature was rising though and she was becoming rather worried. When she received Doctor Lemay's note informing her that he had been requested to treat the sick nobles by Rochefort she had nearly thrown the bowl of water she was using to cool Aramis against the wall in anger.

There was knock at the infirmary door and Constance went to open it. In front of her was a rather portly man who looked to be well into his fifties.

'Pardon, Madame,' he said removing his hat. 'I'm looking for a sick musketeer.'

'His name is Aramis,' she said calmly as she opened the door so he could walk in.

Doctor Jardin moved towards Aramis frowning slightly. 'Doctor Lemay said he was fighting an infection?' he looked to Constance who nodded. Dr. Jardin took a few minutes to examine Aramis, though he never lifted the musketeer's shirt, before stepping back.

'His fever is high and if he is to recover it will need to come down,' he said eyeing the bowl of water.

'I've been cooling his brow but I'm not sure whether it is working,' Constance admitted.

'He needs to be thoroughly cooled,' Jardin said eyeing Constance. 'He needs his limbs and torso to be swabbed as that will help bring his whole body temperature down. Here,' he beckoned her over to Aramis who still appeared to be asleep. 'Feel,' she touched his arm and felt the heat radiating off.

'Oh my, Doctor Lemay checked him earlier this morning and never mentioned this,' she said looking fearful.

'It has probably developed in the last few hours,' he said kindly. 'Are you related to him?'

Constance froze for a moment as she realised that the treatment Aramis needed was far more invasive than just cooling his brow. She would have to cool his chest and arms and legs and if she wasn't a relative that would be seen as too invasive and rather improper.

'Yes,' she lied more confidently that she thought she was able. 'I'm his sister.'

Dr. Jardin didn't question her although he appeared to be slightly sceptical. 'Normally, in these circumstances I would ask the patient's permission for you to continue treating him so-,'

'She has it,' came the mumbled agreement from the bed as Aramis struggled to open his eyes.

'Do you know what needs to be done?' Dr. Jardin asked Aramis kindly.

'Needs to cool chest and limbs,' he said quietly. 'She can. She's my sister. I trust her.'

'As long as you're ok with that,' Dr. Jardin patted Aramis shoulder and the marksman winced.

'Sorry,' the doctor mumbled and helped Aramis drink a pain draught and some water. 'I'm sure your sister will take good care of you,' he said as he collected his things. He suddenly remembered something and scribbled his address on a piece of paper.

'Send for me if you need me and I'll return this evening,' he said to Constance as walked out of the door. Once he was gone Constance turned back to Aramis who was looking at her with his eyes half shut.

'You ok...to do...this?' he asked and she smiled warmly in response.

She lifted the blanket that was covering him and had to stop her laughter as she saw the shirt and braies he was wearing were far too big for him.

'Porthos',' he mumbled and she chastised herself for letting her amusement show. She gently rolled up the too big braies until they were half-way up his thighs. She noticed the bandages there and didn't say anything.

'Aramis,' she called quietly and he opened his eyes after a few moments. 'I need to get your shirt off,' he nodded slightly and she rolled his shirt up his torso she couldn't help but look shocked. The cuts that adorned his chest were numerous and she had never seen anything like it. The top half of his chest was wrapped in bandages and she could see spots of blood. She carefully manoeuvred his arms out of the sleeves and finally lifted his head to remove the garment completely.

'There, that's better,' she said as Aramis managed a smile.

'Is that...what you say...to D'Artagnan...when you're un...dressing him?' he smirked slightly as she saw the mischief in his eyes that she was used to and hadn't seen since she arrived. She was actually very glad to see it.

She pouted and placed her hands on her hips in very annoyed manner but she couldn't hide her amusement. 'That is no question to ask a lady,' she said looking at him as he smiled slightly.

'My...apologies,' he huffed quietly although he didn't look sorry at all.

'Sleep Aramis,' she said brushing his cheek gently.

'Too hot,' he closed his eyes and winced slightly.

'I'll cool you down,' she said as she moved towards the door and asked the nearest cadet to fetch her more water and clean cloths. He didn't look happy at being told what to do by a woman but Constance used her best glare and he ran away to comply.

Soon she had what she needed as she methodically started to wipe Aramis' torso and limbs while he slept. She wasn't sure how well it was cooling him but she knew she was glad it gave her something to do other than worry.

* * *

The musketeers arrived in Épernon as the sun was starting to set. They had found a copse of trees to hide their horses as they looked towards the stately home. Athos was peering through the spyglass and it was clear that he didn't like what he saw.

'There are double the guards to last time,' he said as he handed the spyglass to Tréville.

'Dammit,' Tréville muttered. 'He's been tipped off.'

'Only Rochefort could have done that,' D'Artagnan stated angrily.

'D'you think the Duke's still in there?' Porthos said in low and dangerous growl.

'With the men guarding I would say so,' Tréville looked back to his men.

'If he's been tipped off, why wouldn't he leave?' D'Artagnan asked looking confused.

'Maybe he thinks he can defeat the regiment?' Porthos sounded sceptical.

'Or maybe he thinks it is just us three or us and a few more musketeers,' Athos looked at his brothers. 'He knows we will not stop looking for Aramis without a fight and we can assume that he doesn't know we rescued Aramis. Remember that I told him I could ask for a more extensive search but let's be honest the King isn't going to send the regiment to look for one man.'

'You think maybe a miscommunication?' Tréville asked.

'It makes sense,' Athos shrugged. 'Rochefort couldn't put anything incriminating in a letter just in case it was intercepted, so maybe it has been slightly misinterpreted.'

'We wait till dark and then we strike,' Tréville moved back into the cover of the trees.

'Yes, Captain,' he heard from the trio of men behind him. He only wished it had been a quartet of voices.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm not sure when the next update will be but I'm also sure you will have more important things to do than read my story. So Merry Christmas to everyone who's been reading and has stuck with this story so far. :)**


	36. Chapter 36

**Hello. My first update of the new year! Hope 2017 is a good year for all my readers!**

 **Warning: Scenes of violence.**

 **As usual all mistakes are mine but if you spot any glaring ones let me know. I hope you enjoy it. :)**

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Six

Rochefort knew that he had to strike soon. He just had to hope the Duke was nowhere to be seen and therefore couldn't spill any secrets. The last thing he needed was for the Duke to blab. Aramis was a different problem. A problem that he would resolve himself as he realised that relying on others was not the best idea. If you needed a job done then it was better to do it yourself.

He wondered when would be the best time to strike as he needed for it not to look suspicious but for the garrison to be quiet enough that he was unlikely to be interrupted. Aramis was alone at the garrison without his brothers and therefore with little protection. The cadets would never refuse him so he just needed to send them away.

He would wait a few hours yet but he couldn't allow Aramis to speak to the King. He was sure he could discredit the Duke if the man dared to reveal his involvement but if Aramis were also to accuse him then Louis may not dismiss the claims so easily. Aramis had to die.

* * *

Constance continued her work cooling Aramis but his fever stubbornly refused to go down. He had already had a couple of fitful nightmares which she deduced were a memories of Savoy as he kept mentioning Marsac. She had managed to calm him as she worked out that repeatedly telling him he was safe and at the garrison did the trick. Right now she wished the others were here or that Aramis at least could tell her what to do.

Dr. Jardin had said he would return and she hoped that when he did he would have more ideas. She had thought about sending a message to the Queen about Aramis' condition but she also realised that would make the Queen panic and that was last thing that was needed. She hoped that the doctor would return soon, although she feared what he might say.

* * *

Darkness closed in as Tréville and the musketeers approached the Duke's residence carefully. It was important that the alarm was not raised before they could assess and attack properly. Porthos and D'Artagnan returned with news that the back of the Duke's house was covered with guards, as well as the further increased protection at the front of the building.

'Definitely stepped up security,' Porthos whispered.

'About twenty men round the back crossing paths and watching at all times,' D'Artagnan said quietly.

'He knows we're comin'. With the men watchin' we're goin' to struggle to get through,' Porthos sighed.

'Then we need some kind of distraction,' Tréville mused. 'We have twenty men and the Duke has at least forty, possibly sixty.'

At that moment they were all waiting for Aramis' usual quip and then their faces fell as they then realised it wouldn't come.

'Three to one is not so bad,' Athos decided to take Aramis place as the others smirked. It was a comment that from Aramis that would normally rile Athos as he felt that times like this were no time for jokes and yet he now drew comfort from it. It was a sense that Aramis was with them and Athos knew the other's sensed it too.

'Let's get ready,' Tréville said as he moved over to a quartet of musketeers. He instructed them to make sure they were seen by the men guarding the front of the house and have their horses tethered close by but away from the rest of the musketeers. He was hoping that by gaining their attention some guards would follow the musketeers allowing the rest to sneak into the compound. With the horses they would clearly be able to outrun the guards and hopefully return to assist their fellow musketeers.

Ten minutes later the diversion occurred and thankfully the Duke's guards were stupid enough to take the bait. The guards ran as fast as they could towards the four musketeers acting as the diversion while the rest of the musketeers creeped up to the house. They had no idea of how many men lay in wait but the Inseparables were sure that however many it was, they would not stop them getting to the Duke.

* * *

It was dark now and Constance was at her wits end. A fitful Aramis was difficult to deal with but the motionless man in front of her was scaring her even more. His temperature hadn't fallen no matter how much she cooled him and his heart was beating wildly. She was really beginning to worry and hoped that Dr. Jardin would have a different solution when he appeared. She had already tried teasing Aramis, shaking him and trying to wake him but to no avail. He couldn't die on her. He just couldn't!

The door to the infirmary opened and Dr. Jardin walked in. His face fell as he saw the worry that lined Constance's face and headed directly towards Aramis. The doctor touched Aramis' forehead and measured his pulse before wincing while Constance watched on.

'We need to get these bandages off,' he said to her as he momentarily left the room. She could hear him talking outside to someone who she presumed was one of the cadets but she couldn't hear what he said.

'Right, let's gently take these off, shall we?' he said quietly.

Together they quickly removed the bandages from around the top of Aramis' torso but Aramis remained silent and motionless. He seemed much more like a rag doll than a man.

'Lemay drained the infection well,' Jardin said as he inspected the wounds. 'Best to let the air get to them for now,' he smiled but Constance noticed that the smile never reached his eyes.

'Tell me the truth,' she said as she stood to face the doctor. He was about to answer when a cadet entered carrying a pan of water, a jar of honey and a bottle of wine. Dr. Jardin took the honey and wine and placed them on a table and instructed the cadet to put the pan of water by the fire. The cadet did as he was instructed and left. Dr. Jardin placed the pan over the fire and added a couple of logs to make it burn hotter.

The doctor moved and picked up the wine and gestured to Constance to move into the small office in the infirmary at the back of the room.

'Sit,' he said as Constance warily sat down and he poured her some wine as he found some cups in the room.

'It's not good is it?' she asked as she took a sip of wine.

'I'm afraid not,' the doctor said quietly. 'The infection from the wounds was drained by Dr. Lemay and the wounds are showing only slight indications of infection. But his fever is still way too high.'

'Does he have sepsis?' Constance asked dreading what she was about to hear.

'Yes,' the Jardin sighed. 'How severe remains to be seen. His temperature is far too high and his pulse is fast.'

'But?' Constance couldn't herself and Dr. Jardin could see her eyes were glistening.

'So far, although his heartbeat is fast it is not irregular and he is not having trouble breathing. I mean his breathing isn't hitching,' he added as Constance looked confused, 'but I am very concerned at how long his temperature has been so high, especially as you have been cooling him,' the doctor did indeed look concerned.

They sat in silence for a few minutes as they both took sips from their cups of wine.

'What was the water and honey for?' Constance asked as she tried to bring herself together.

'If he wakes Dr. Lemay suggested that he drink cooled down boiled water with honey in it,' the doctor said as he gauged Constance's reaction.

'What do you mean if?' Constance growled and Dr. Jardin felt a shiver go down his spine. 'You've given up on him but I will not!' she shouted as she stood and swung the door to the office open as forcefully as she could.

* * *

Rochefort deduced that he had waited long enough and made a quick excuse to the King about checking on Aramis after his ordeal. By the end of the conversation Rochefort was sure that Louis thought he had come up with idea. Still it didn't matter as he knew he had to silence Aramis somehow.

He rode to the garrison as he wanted to make himself as inconspicuous as possible and a carriage would have made him far more noticeable. He didn't want anyone to associate Aramis' death with him. He wondered what the situation would be like as he supposed Aramis wouldn't be completely alone so he would need a reason to be alone with the musketeer. He also wondered at what would be the best method to use. He had brought poison with him but poison tended to leave obvious after effects and the last thing he needed was Aramis' death looking suspicious.

Before he knew it he had arrived and there was a rather young looking cadet taking the reins of his horse.

'Where is Aramis being kept?' he asked the cadet haughtily.

'Who are you?' the cadet questioned and Rochefort realised that even the young cadets had been trained to ask somebody's name before allowing them access.

'I'm the Comte de Rochefort,' he said pompously making the young man quiver. 'I have been sent by the King to assess the musketeer Aramis' condition.' Rochefort glared and gained satisfaction from the shrinking youth before him.

'He is in the infirmary,' came a voice to Rochefort's right as Joubert looked unstable on his feet and was leaning on a different cadet but he was certainly not intimidated by the Comte. 'The infirmary is that building there,' he pointed in a no-nonsense manner.

'Thank you,' Rochefort said as politely as he could. He moved to rise up the steps to the infirmary and couldn't help but hold his breath as he had no idea what he was about to see.

He opened the door to find rows of beds placed against the wall but there was only one occupant who was lying on the third bed on the left from the far wall. Lying still. Rochefort looked around and saw that the room was unoccupied except for the stricken Aramis. He felt a smile rise to his lips.

He moved closer to get a better look and could see the greyness of the marksman's skin as well as the cuts that adorned his chest and legs. He touched Aramis' arm and could feel the heat rising from the musketeer's skin. Rochefort swallowed thickly as he noticed the blackness of Aramis' fingernails as he remembered his own torture at the hands of the Spanish. Fingernails caused a lot of pain but would rarely cause problems for the sufferer except to stop their grip which was deemed as a good thing to those who wanted to keep their prisoners beaten and not a threat.

Had Rochefort not seen Aramis' chest rise and fall then he would have thought the usually joyful man dead already. He looked around again as realised the best way to put the man out of his misery was to suffocate him using a pillow. There would be little trace using such a method which made it preferable to poison. In this state Aramis could not fight back. Rochefort was about to reach for the pillow on the bed next to Aramis when he heard shouting and the door to the infirmary office swung open.

'You!' Constance shouted as she saw Rochefort leering over Aramis. In that moment he was thankful that he hadn't picked up the pillow.

'Madame Bonacieux,' he said smoothly as she stormed towards him and Aramis looking rather frightening.

'What are you doing here?' she spat.

'I'm here to enquire about Aramis' health for the King,' he replied calmly but Constance clearly didn't trust him. 'Surely **you** should be attending to Her Majesty,' he sneered. He hadn't expected this complication.

'Her Majesty gave me leave to look after Aramis,' Constance said as she glared back as if daring him to contradict her.

Rochefort could feel his anger rising as he knew his moment had passed. There was no way she was going to leave Aramis alone now and even if she did how would he explain another visit? He noticed the lines of worry etched on her face and he looked to the doctor who also looked rather grave. Perhaps it was possible that he didn't need to do anything at all.

'What is his condition doctor?' Rochefort asked as he walked to stand opposite the man.

'He has sepsis. If his fever does not break tonight...then he will die,' Jardin answered quietly. Rochefort managed to contain his smile. Just.

'His chances?'

'Of surviving?' Rochefort nodded. 'Low but not impossible.'

'You don't know how stubborn he is,' Constance marched over to the fireplace to check on the water boiling there before returning to the bowl of water she had abandoned to cool Aramis again. A thought occurred to Rochefort as he watched her tend to the almost naked form of Aramis.

'Madame Bonacieux,' he called as he walked towards her. She lifted her head to look at him. 'I'm not sure this is really appropriate. After all, Aramis has no say in how you are looking at his body which is almost fully on view.'

'Actually, monsieur,' Rochefort turned to look at the doctor. 'When I suggested this treatment Aramis was lucid enough to give his consent, therefore this is not inappropriate.'

Rochefort gritted his teeth as he had no more ideas that would allow him to be alone with the musketeer. He just had to hope that the doctor was right and Aramis would not last the night.

'Well, I must go and inform the King,' he said as pompously as he could. 'You are...?' he looked to the doctor.

'Doctor Jardin, monsieur,' the doctor answered.

'Let us hope that you are wrong doctor and Aramis recovers,' he said as charmingly as he could. Rochefort took one last look at Aramis as he left, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

Rochefort couldn't believe that he had not managed to silence Aramis once and for all. Madame Bonacieux was constant pain in his arse and he wondered how much more trouble she could cause him. He hoped that Dr. Jardin was indeed correct and that Aramis would not last the night. That would make things simple, well simpler.

He dismounted his horse as he arrived at the palace and quickly moved towards the King's chambers and knocked on Louis' bedchamber door.

'Ah, Rochefort,' Louis smiled as Rochefort bowed and entered the room. Queen Anne was sat at the table where Louis had for once decided to spend some time with his wife rather than his mistress. A chess game had been set up and Rochefort knew from past experience that Queen Anne could win easily if she chose to but he also knew that beating the King was rarely a good thing.

'How is Aramis?' Anne asked as Louis looked as though he had momentarily forgotten about the musketeer. No surprises there.

'I'm afraid the news is not good, Your Majesty,' Rochefort saw the Queen's face fall slightly as she swallowed thickly.

'How bad is he?' Louis' voice was laced with interest and concern.

'Dr. Jardin thinks it is likely that he will not last the night,' Rochefort said as solemnly as he could. 'He has a high fever caused by sepsis.'

'No, that is not at all good,' Anne managed to keep the quiver out of her voice as she struggled with the news that her beloved Aramis may die. No wonder Constance hadn't sent her an update.

'Your Majesty...' Rochefort looked to Anne who nodded for him to continue. 'Madame Bonacieux was present at Aramis' side-.'

'I know,' Anne said defiantly. 'I sent her. I thought Aramis could do with someone he knew well with him as his colleagues have gone to arrest the Duke.' Anne was mindful to make sure that she wasn't insinuating that her husband was wrong to send the other musketeers, even though she thought he was.

'Forgive me, I just wanted to check,' Rochefort replied smoothly and Anne nodded. Rochefort bowed once more and left the room leaving Anne and Louis alone.

Anne noticed Louis yawning as he sat down at the table.

'Forgive me,' she said as she stood. 'I think I should retire for the night. I haven't been sleeping well lately.'

'Of course, that is understandable,' Louis said as he stood too. 'Would it help if the guards were stationed at the outer entrance to your chambers? Less noise?'

'Yes, I believe it would,' she smiled in return.

'Then I shall make sure no-one disturbs you,' he pressed a kiss to her forehead as she smiled and left the room.

* * *

Tréville watched as the men guarding the Duke's house charged after the musketeers who had caused the diversion. There were at least ten of them and he only hoped that his men would be able to get away cleanly. Well, they weren't actually his men anymore, he supposed.

'Time to go,' Athos' voice brought Tréville out of his thoughts as the musketeers crouched and approached the main gate. Porthos expertly picked the lock in seconds as the rest of the musketeers kept low to avoid being seen as much as possible.

Luckily, they only encountered one guard as the others had charged after the diversion. Gabriel had swiftly and quietly taken care of the man and taken the man's weapons. They were all aware that the alarm would be sounded as soon as they entered the front door and they had no idea what they would find on the other side.

Athos carefully reached up for the door handle and found that the door wasn't locked as he bent the handle. Porthos and D'Artagnan readied their pistols as they knew an unlocked door meant trouble. The musketeers flattened themselves against the walls on either side of the door as Athos gently pushed it open. He only just managed to stand back before the volley of shots pierced the still shut side of the door and passed through the open doorway.

D'Artagnan mouthed, 'Ten,' as the number of shots heard. Porthos raced through the open door first firing his two pistols and hitting his mark each time. Athos followed again hitting his men and killing them. Porthos quickly charged a soldier who was attempting to draw his sword and smashed the man's head into a pillar staining the off-white colour red and the man crumpled to the floor.

D'Artagnan and Gabriel followed with a volley of their own shots that hit their marks and although they weren't fatal Athos finished the men off as well as another man who charged at him. Tréville appeared as the musketeers heard the sound of running feet and Athos led the way towards the chamber where they first encountered the Duke.

Men charged down the staircase that the musketeers had just passed on their right and shots were fired. Thankfully the Duke's men didn't have the best aim but three of the musketeers were injured, although not seriously. Six men in all stayed behind as the other ten moved on.

The Inseparables had a purpose in their stride and it was clear to Tréville that they would cut down as many men as it took to get to the Duke. The Duke had made a big mistake in harming Aramis.

The musketeers wound their way through the halls following Athos' lead. Athos had memorised this route since the day they first came to the Duke. He would not be kept from the man who hurt his brother. Porthos and D'Artagnan walked determinedly behind him every step in sync. They too would not be kept from the Duke. From a room on the left men charged out. Athos swiped his sword across one man's arm detaching it at the elbow. Athos didn't care as he thrusted his sword though the man's chest.

Porthos too swung his sword and this time caught his man across the stomach. The man dropped his weapons as his hands clutched the wound but the blood already flowing from it made it obvious that it was a fatal blow. Porthos decided to put the man out of his misery as he thrust his sword through the man's chest.

D'Artagnan had two opponents before him but in his mood there was no stopping him. He sliced the first man's thigh and watched as the man fell. He then blocked the second man's attack before he pirouetted around the first man knelt on the floor and thrust his sword through the second man's back. As the second man crumpled, the first man watched in horror and tried to move as D'Artagnan originally meant to thrust his sword through the man's heart but due to the movement he sliced across the man's throat instead. The man gasped for air but blood was filling his lungs and D'Artagnan knew he was dead and turned to look for his brothers.

Tréville fought a man as large as Porthos but the former captain could tell the man wasn't as light on his feet as Porthos was. He was the older man by far but he was quick enough to outmanoeuvre his opponent as he first sliced the man's calf causing the man to topple and then thrust through the man's stomach causing a painful howl to emit from the dying man.

The Inseparables and Tréville looked to the remaining fights and could see that the other musketeers had it covered.

'Go!' Vasselin shouted as he saw them watching. 'We can handle this,' he grinned as Gabriel also finished off his opponent by running him through.

The five men nodded and continued to charge down the hallway with Athos in the lead.

The Duke sat by the fire sipping his brandy as he heard the chaos that surrounded him. The musketeers were here but he knew he had the forces to keep them in check. He was in the same room that he had last encountered the musketeers and the one with the icy blue eyes seeing right through him came to mind. The Duke gave an involuntary shudder as he remembered the icy glare of the musketeer Athos.

He looked out of the window and saw that there were no guards out there. Ten men were now ready to attack in the room he was now in and he realised that the other men were needed elsewhere. He was starting to wonder how many musketeers had come. Still he was confident that the musketeers would be overpowered and then he would shame them in front of the King for attacking a nobleman of France. Maybe he could get back the recognition he deserved after all?

He continued to sip his brandy peacefully but loud footfalls in the distance caught his attention as the commotion started to get louder and nearer.

The musketeers approached the door where they deduced the Duke was likely to be. They could see two men guarding it and the light from the fire flickering underneath the door. They all reloaded their pistols which they had kept with them rather than thrown them away. Aramis always hated how roughly some of them treated their pistols.

'We take the guards without the pistols,' Athos whispered. 'I don't think the Duke is stupid enough not to have men guarding him inside the room.'

The others nodded as Tréville then signalled for Porthos to take the guard on the left while D'Artagnan took the one on the right.

The musketeers moved quickly as they pushed their opponent's swords away and grabbed the men tightly and pressed them against the wall. In synchronisation they pulled their daggers and slit the men's throats. They then dragged the bodies out of the way into a deserted room to the left.

Quietly Porthos examined the lock and deduced that the door was indeed locked. It was a single lock and the musketeers heard pistols click behind it. Porthos carefully picked the lock and was careful to shield his body behind the wall. He would have to do this one completely by feel. He felt the spring that would unlock the door and turned to the others. The others moved back to give Porthos room and pressed themselves tightly against the wall on either side.

Porthos took a deep breath and unlocked the door and quickly moved against the wall. A volley of bullets penetrated the door but none of the musketeers were hit but they suspected that all of the Duke's men had fired. A foolish mistake.

Porthos roared as he kicked open the door and fired his pistol hitting his man in the chest. He was quickly followed by D'Artagnan and Athos who also hit their intended targets. The Duke's men panicked and Tréville hit one while Gabriel hit another. The pistols were spent and it was five against five.

The Duke bolted towards the other door in the room but Porthos knocked the sword out of his man's grip and threw him against the door causing the Duke to flinch and stare at Porthos, who was now purposefully striding towards him. The Duke tried to move the body of the man who was currently stunned by Porthos' throw but Porthos got to the door before the man could be moved.

'Goin' somewhere?' he growled as the Duke attempted to lift a pistol of his own which Porthos snatched from his grasp and pointed at the terrified Duke. He also placed a foot on the fallen man to stop him from moving.

Porthos turned to see his brothers victorious and this time they had chosen to injure rather than kill.

'You can't do this!' the Duke tried to say as defiantly as he could and he stood as tall as possible.

'You are under arrest by the order of His Majesty King Louis XIII,' Tréville growled approaching the Duke who started to whimper.

* * *

 **A/N: I'll soon be doing the corrections for my thesis so I'm just giving an advanced warning that chapters may not always be posted as often as they have been.**

 **I'll admit that Dr. Jardin was originally supposed to be a rather annoying and snobby character but I ended up writing him a bit warmer than I intended. I would love to hear your thoughts. :)**


	37. Chapter 37

**Hello everyone. This chapter was finished last night so I apologise if it seems a little rushed. I wanted to get it out on time.**

 **I hope you enjoy it. :)**

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The Duke stared at Tréville in disbelief. The King had ordered his arrest?

'What for?' he spat.

'Treason,' Tréville said stoically.

'You'll have to explain it to me,' the Duke glared back.

'In a moment,' Tréville walked away from the Duke and took the reloaded pistol from D'Artagnan. He opened the door to the corridor that they had entered from and walked into the hallway.

Before him there were still fights going on but there were only a few of the Duke's men left. Many were dead or injured but Tréville suspected that some had run away. He fired the pistol through the open door of one of the rooms that lined the hallway and everyone's attention turned to him.

'We have been ordered to arrest the Duke by His Majesty,' Tréville didn't shout but every man could hear him. 'Those of you who leave now will be unharmed. Continue to fight and my men will kill you. It is treason to continue your fight but it is only the Duke we want. We have him so go home and tell your colleagues to as well.'

The musketeers stood back and lowered their swords to show that they would not restart the fight and the Duke's men silently laid down their arms.

'What happens after we go home?' a young man asked.

'The Duke will be tried before His Majesty and then the estate shall be either divided or given to someone else if the Duke is found guilty,' Tréville said confidently. He knew there was no way the Duke was getting out of this. 'You will be informed of the outcome.'

The young man still looked nervous as all eyes were on him.

'Anything else?' Tréville asked with a softer tone as he looked the shaking man.

'Will we be executed for treason?' the young man asked clearly fearful of Tréville's answer. Tréville looked around at the many worried faces.

'I cannot guarantee that you won't,' he answered truthfully, 'but if you lay down your weapons now, I will ensure that His Majesty knows that you were only doing as instructed by the Duke. That you were doing your job until the circumstances were revealed. I give you my word. Go home.'

The young man looked dejected but nodded at Tréville's words and the former captain made a promise to himself to spare these men from the courts.

Tréville moved back into the room where the Duke still had Porthos glaring down at him. In the distance they could hear the musketeers rounding up the Duke's men and sending them home.

'Gabriel,' Tréville looked to the musketeer. 'Get the men together and start treating the wounded. Also organise shifts to keep a perimeter.' Gabriel nodded and left.

Porthos finally lowered the pistol he was holding and for a moment the Duke obviously thought he could relax as his face slackened. Porthos' left fist came as a surprise as the large musketeer connected with the right side of the Duke's face sending the noble flailing across the room. He was stopped by Athos and was grateful until Athos' right fist hit his left cheek and he fell to the floor.

'No D'Artagnan, you can't punch him,' Tréville sounded angry and perhaps slightly amused as the Gascon moved towards the Duke.

D'Artagnan exchanged glances with Athos and Porthos and Tréville started to speak as a realisation hit him but D'Artagnan kicked the recovering Duke, who was now kneeling, in the chest knocking the noble back to the floor again. D'Artagnan's smirk said it all as the musketeers turned to their leader.

'He didn't punch him,' Porthos quipped as Tréville held the bridge of his nose with his right forefinger and thumb.

'No, he didn't,' he sighed in despair. 'I really have to be less specific,' he muttered to himself.

All eyes turned back to the Duke who had somehow managed to kneel again after his beating.

'The King will hear of this!' he snarled as his nose started to bleed.

'Yes, he will,' Athos said seriously.

'Especially about the resistance you put up,' D'Artagnan smirked.

'Forcing us to fight back and unfortunately injure you,' Porthos growled as Vasselin entered the room and handed Porthos some rope.

Porthos the tied the Duke's hands in front of him and tied the other end to the table nearby. The Duke moved to sit rather than kneel.

'Don't go anywhere,' Porthos chirped but the Duke sent a death glare his way making Porthos chuckle. The Duke's face then turned into a grin.

'I'll never tell you where he is,' the Duke grinned. 'You'll never find his body.' He watched curiously as the men in front of him exchanged looks that he couldn't decipher.

Athos smirked slightly as the Duke recoiled from him as he knelt in front of him. The Duke recoiled further as Athos extended his hands and reached behind the Duke's neck. Athos undid the ribbon that he knew held Aramis' gift from the Queen and soon it was in his hands. He vowed he would return it to its rightful owner.

'Dead men don't need possessions,' the Duke sneered hoping to win in this battle of wills.

'True,' Athos agreed as he tied the jewelled crucifix around his neck before he stood and turned to D'Artagnan.

'You don't know, do you?' D'Artagnan asked with a grin and the Duke felt a shiver go down his spine.

'We found 'im,' Porthos growled letting the Duke know that only his restraint was stopping him from beating the Duke to a pulp. 'He's alive,' he said with more confidence than he felt.

'All your men are dead. Including Renard,' Athos said stoically.

The Duke felt himself slump at the news. Renard had promised him that Aramis would die but he remembered the musketeer's face when he left and how stubborn the man was. It was over and Aramis was still alive. He had lost.

* * *

Queen Anne made her way to her rooms and ordered the guards to stay at the far end of her chambers. She was doing her best to remain composed but the news about Aramis had been difficult to take.

'Marguerite,' she called as she entered her son's chambers.

'Your Majesty,' the governess curtseyed before the Queen.

'I am tired and do not wish to be disturbed this evening,' Anne said as strongly as she could. 'Please take care of my son as I know you are capable. I really **do not** want to be disturbed,' she repeated.

The governess looked slightly confused as the Queen was always available when her son needed her. 'Yes, Majesty,' she said feeling rather uncertain while also noting that Constance wasn't there to help either. She moved away to give the Queen a moment alone with her son.

Anne moved towards her son and found him lying quietly in his crib holding his favourite teddy bear. Aramis' teddy bear.

'I need you to be quiet tonight little one,' she smiled as he gripped the teddy tighter. 'I think you know why.' She picked him up and kissed his forehead and looked into his eyes. Her son's eyes were blue like hers but right now she could see Aramis staring back from them. She laid her son back down and covered him in a light blanket. He stared up at her as he started to chew on the teddy bear's ear. She would have to tell Aramis about that.

Anne swept from the room and her ladies followed as she was undressed and prepared for bed. She wanted to dismiss them as quickly as possible but she didn't want to rouse anyone's suspicions either. Once her ladies had finished she bid them goodnight and waited for their footsteps to recede.

She reached into the back of one of her many wardrobes and found the box that only she and Constance were really aware of. They contained the clothes she had used to visit Emilie and Anne tried to remember how to put them on. It took longer than she predicted but she surmised she looked good enough and the more askew the clothes were the less likely anyone would believe she was the Queen.

She placed her hand on the door to leave and was reminded of the last time she had worn these clothes. She had put her own life at risk as well as Constance's when she entered Emilie's camp. Already there was Aramis and she realised that she had been stupid to think the musketeers wouldn't have a plan. Thankfully, Aramis had brought her back but not before he had chastised his Queen for her recklessness. She smiled at the thought as she remembered his lips on hers and how good it felt to kiss him again. She had longed for another moment and of course Constance had caught them. Constance would not betray her and Aramis. She was sure of that.

* * *

Constance was tired but knew she couldn't stop. Aramis' temperature was still too high but he had woken and although he had no idea where he was or who she was, she did manage to get him to drink some of the honeyed water before he collapsed again.

She saw that as a victory. She continued to try and keep him cool but she knew she couldn't do it all night. The cadets were pretty much useless and she didn't know any of them. She considered asking Joubert but she knew the man was still suffering from his own ordeal.

She sighed as she was determined that she would stay awake as long as possible. Aramis looked pale and gaunt and not how he normally looked. She was starting to understand why it took three of them to look after him and why they had been so worried about leaving him. She needed help.

* * *

The Duke's men had retreated without fuss and the injured musketeers were being tended too. Even the Inseparables had some scrapes and tried to ignore them before Tréville pointed out that Aramis would be scowling if he could see them. It had the desired effect as the scrapes that the Inseparables 'hadn't noticed' were cleaned and dressed.

Tréville wandered over to the Duke and saw that the man wasn't asleep. He was still tied to the table but one of the musketeers had given him a cushion to lay his head on. A luxury that he didn't really deserve but Tréville didn't want to anger him too much as he also suspected the Duke wasn't happy about his earlier beating.

'I hear you are no longer Captain?' the Duke sneered as Tréville approached. The Duke sat up as much as his restraints allowed.

'No, I'm not,' Tréville replied with no emotion in his voice.

'Must be hard...to have served so long and be dismissed,' the Duke watched Tréville carefully.

'The King was disappointed and rightly so,' Tréville could see the mirth in the Duke's eyes and would not be baited.

'He was not the rightful King!' the Duke spat back. 'But you already know that. That child that died was the rightful King and you were part of his death and covering it all up.'

'Marie de Medici failed in her coup to take what wasn't hers,' Tréville remained stone-faced.

'You lied to the King and did not tell him that his mother tried to depose him again,' the Duke looked positively gleeful at this. 'I wonder how disappointed he will be when he learns the truth about his precious musketeers and the man that killed a defenceless baby.'

Tréville swallowed hard as he realised that if the Duke told the truth he would either be forced to lie again or admit to Louis that he had lied about his mother. The truth from the Duke's lips would make far more sense in why he had attacked Aramis as it was Aramis that staged the death.

The Duke was smirking now as though he had won.

'I think you should worry about your own fate,' Tréville said quietly. 'Yes, you may cause problems for me and the Musketeers but you still ordered your men to kidnap the Queen and took Aramis prisoner. You tortured a member of the King's guard and the King takes that very personally.' Maybe a slight exaggeration but it had the effect that Tréville had wanted as the Duke scowled.

'Much more important would be your knowledge of the traitor in His Majesty's court,' Tréville continued.

'If I go down so will he,' the Duke's response pleased Tréville but he did not show it. 'And I will take down every musketeer I can. Aramis may wish he never survived his torture.' The Duke lay down and turned his back on Tréville while the former Captain wondered if anything else could possibly go against them.

* * *

Queen Anne looked around her chambers and carefully walked past her son's room as she knew Lady Marguerite was still in there. She spotted the stairs that led to the servants' areas and quickly descended. At this time of night it was relatively quiet as most of the servants were tidying up or preparing for tomorrow. She messed her hair up slightly to try and hide her face and no-one bothered to look up. After all who would think to look for the Queen in this part of the palace? She didn't know her way very well but she quickly found the exit she was looking for.

She moved towards the stables that held horses for the servants who lived away from the palace to use. This mainly included servants who had families and lived within Paris. The red guards on duty took no notice of her as she struggled with the saddle and reins. She loved horses and had spent a lot of time with them when she was in Spain. Her father had disapproved but he also loved his daughter enough to let her ride more often than was deemed acceptable for a princess. It had, however, been a long time since she had saddled a horse and she was struggling.

'Can I help you?' came pleasant voice from behind her. A young man in his late twenty's stood before her. He had dark brown hair and eyes. She was momentarily reminded of Aramis.

'Yes, that would be very helpful,' she blushed and kept her head down. The man didn't appear to notice.

'You chose a good one here,' he patted the horse after he finished saddling her and had got the reins in place. 'I normally take her,' he smiled.

'If she's yours then-'

He waved away her protest. 'Other people use these horses so don't worry 'bout it.' He looked at her slightly disbelievingly as if he finally noticed who he was addressing. 'What's your name?'

'Constance,' she blurted out before she could think about it. She hoped Constance wouldn't mind.

'Jean,' he held his hand out and she shook it. 'Hope to see you about Constance.'

'And you,' she said back as he disappeared to saddle his own horse. She wasn't sure he was convinced by her lie but there was no time to dwell on it. She found a stool and mounted. The horse didn't seem at all worried about its new rider. She moved the mare forward and smiled slightly as she realised Constance would probably laugh when she told her that she had used her name.

Anne suddenly became aware of the fact that she had not visited the Musketeer garrison for many years and was not entirely sure of the way. She was also aware that she was completely exposed in the dark on the streets of Paris and she hadn't thought to bring any kind of weapon. Perhaps this wasn't a good idea after all.

She continued on her way and finally realised she was going to have to ask for directions. There were plenty of drunk men around and she really didn't fancy getting their attention.

'Hey love,' one shouted as he ambled over to her. 'You look nice.' He was clearly drunk and had spilled ale down his front. 'Where you heading?'

'The Musketeer garrison,' she replied as steadily as she could. 'Do you know it?'

'Aye,' he stumbled. 'Got a date wiv a musketeer have yer?'

'Yes,' she smiled. 'And I'd rather not be late.' She was used to sounding confident when she wasn't and right now she was terrified.

'Well...it's that way,' he pointed ahead, 'and then to the left. If you got time, come back for me. Eh?' he winked and Anne did her best to smile and nod. She hoped she wouldn't meet him on her way back.

She continued as he had directed and found the Musketeer garrison gates in front of her. She dismounted and was approached by a rather nervous looking cadet. She hadn't seen him before so she hoped he would not recognise her.

'Your business here?' he asked as she kept he head down and didn't make eye contact.

'Doctor said there was an ill man here,' she said quietly and tried to make her voice less noble-like.

'He's in the infirmary,' the cadet pointed at the building and took the horse from her.

Anne made directly towards the infirmary and hesitated as she placed her hand on the door. She had come all this way and now she was scared of what she would find.

* * *

The musketeers had commandeered some mattresses and pillows from around the Duke's home. The Inseparables had taken the first shift of guard duty and were now making their way back to the room which held the Duke to sleep. They had chosen to sleep in the same room as the Duke which had a rather large fireplace and was a very warm room. Tréville had made sure that their guard duty was the shortest as he was fully aware that none of the men had managed to sleep well while they worried about Aramis.

It took rather a stern talking to from Tréville to get them to rest and although they wouldn't sleep much he had at least got them to lie down on a shared mattress. Tréville himself was tired and trusted in his men to keep everything in order as he shut his eyes.

The Inseparables lay on the same mattress and all of them could feel each other's tension. Porthos had told the Duke that Aramis was alive and that had been true when they had left but they had no way of knowing if that was still the case. Aramis had been weak when they left and the look in their brother's eyes as they walked out the door showed that Aramis wasn't sure if he would see them again either.

Athos, resourceful as ever, had found a bottle of wine that was a very good vintage and had offered some to Porthos and D'Artagnan. The wine though could not stop their thoughts. D'Artagnan drifted off to sleep first and was quickly followed by Porthos. Athos finished the bottle of wine and finally drifted off to give his exhausted body the rest it needed.

He didn't sleep for long as he woke and found himself feeling like something was missing, or someone. Athos turned around to find only D'Artagnan to his left. Porthos was gone. Athos sat up and scoured the room. Tréville was asleep by the hearth and the Duke was also breathing steadily indicating sleep. Athos quietly got up and moved towards Vasselin who was guarding the room.

'Where's Porthos?' he asked his colleague quietly.

'Got up 'bout ten minutes ago,' Vasselin replied. 'Maybe gone to find a chamber pot?'

'I'm going to look for him,' Athos left as Vasselin nodded.

Athos couldn't think why Porthos would disappear or where he would go. They could only have slept an hour, if that. Athos heard a small noise coming from the end of the hall and realised that it was the likely location of the mansion's chapel. Porthos had little time for religion but Aramis was a true believer.

The door was slightly ajar and Athos could see a candle lit in the moonlight coming in from the window. Athos could see a dark shape unmoving in the front row. He moved quietly but not stealthily as he didn't want Porthos to panic.

'How d'you find me?' Porthos baritone voice floated across to Athos as he approached.

'Followed my gut,' Athos replied as Porthos shifted over for his brother to sit down. In Porthos' hands was Aramis' blue sash.

'Thought he wouldn't mind,' Porthos said as he saw Athos looking. 'Just needed a bit of him with me,' he smiled ruefully.

'At least you didn't get blood on it,' Athos smiled slightly.

'Yeah,' Porthos smiled warmly. 'How many of these has he destroyed to save us?'

'Too many,' Athos sighed.

'Felt like he was with me,' Porthos had tears in his eyes but Athos didn't comment.

'That's why I was determined to get this back,' Athos brought Aramis' crucifix out from beneath his leathers and scarf. 'Have him with me. With us.'

'And here I thought I was the only one who stole something of his,' D'Artagnan's voice startled Athos and Porthos who hadn't heard the young man approach. D'Artagnan grinned at their reaction and was holding the feather from Aramis' hat in his right hand.

'We didn't steal,' Porthos insisted.

'We borrowed,' Athos rectified.

They shuffled again to make room for their youngest and D'Artagnan sighed as he took his place beside Athos. Silence held them for a few moments before Porthos spoke.

'Was going to try prayin' for him...but I have no idea where to start,' he said bitterly. 'No such thing as God in the Court.'

'You know I gave up on that after everything that happened,' Athos didn't need to explain and he was grateful.

'My mother was very religious but after she died my dad turned his back on it and I never really saw a reason to start again,' D'Artagnan said quietly.

'We can't even do that for him,' Porthos let the tears falls as he bowed his head. Athos placed an arm around the big man's shoulders.

'Yes, we can,' Athos said quietly. 'Aramis has always believed that God hears everybody, even if his answer is no.'

'True,' D'Artagnan said quietly.

'Here,' Athos held Aramis' crucifix in his palm and Porthos and D'Artagnan both reached out on placed a finger on it.

'Dear Lord,' Athos started, 'we know the three of us have no right to ask anything of you, but we hope that you hear our prayer for our brother Aramis who truly believes in your ways. We ask that you give him the courage and strength to recover from his healing wounds and that he knows that we are thinking of him.'

'That we love him,' Porthos choked out.

'That we miss him,' D'Artagnan added.

'And that he will not be alone, whatever his fate,' Athos finished.

'Amen,' they chorused.

* * *

 **A/N: For those of you worried about a lack of Aramis in this chapter he will be back in the next one. :) I know the idea of the Queen getting out of the palace unnoticed is slightly far-fetched but please indulge me. :)**

 **I love to read to read your thoughts.**


	38. Chapter 38

**Hello. It seems from the comments that I received that I was wrong in thinking that Anne's actions would be seen as far-fetched. I'm glad that they were well received. :) Thanks Margaret (Guest) for your review. :)  
**

 **This chapter was one I was looking forward to writing and I hope I've done it justice!**

 **I hope you enjoy it. :)**

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Anne wondered if her courage would fail her as she stood with her hand on the door. Finally, she opened the door to reveal the infirmary. Her eyes were drawn to the third bed on the left from the far wall although she couldn't see the occupant clearly as she saw Constance slumped in her chair with her head on her hands on the bed.

Anne closed the door quietly and hesitantly approached the bed. She could see Constance breathing but she couldn't really see Aramis as Constance was blocking him. Now that she was here a part of her wasn't sure she wanted to be. She knew he had been tortured but as she made herself move forwards she was shocked at what she saw.

Aramis was lying still on the bed and his skin was rather grey and sullen. His fingernails were still dark from where they had been abused and his chest was covered in cuts. For a moment she thought she was too late and that he was gone but then she noticed the rise and fall of his chest, indicating that he still lived. She sighed in relief as she realised he was still alive.

She walked closer and one of the floorboards creaked and Constance's head flew up in the air as she failed to notice the other woman in the room.

'No,' she muttered to herself. 'I can't have fallen asleep,' she was talking quickly and to herself. She quickly checked Aramis' temperature before checking that his chest was still moving with his breathing. 'Come on Aramis. Do you know how much you're stressing me out?!' she chastised the still man. Anne couldn't help but smile slightly as Constance continued to be oblivious of her presence.

Anne watched as Constance replaced the cloth on Aramis' forehead as she quietly told him to wake up. Suddenly, she turned and her eyes widened in disbelief as she saw the Queen standing in front of her. Constance blinked a couple of times as if her eyes were deceiving her before she finally realised that she wasn't hallucinating.

'What are you doing here?' Constance asked pointedly and with slight concern in her voice.

'I had to see him,' Anne replied quietly. 'I heard how bad he was and I had to come,' she moved closer to Aramis with her eyes slightly teary.

'Do you realise how dangerous Paris is a night?!' Constance asked earnestly and then bowed her head as she realised who she was talking to. 'Forgive me,' she mumbled.

'No Constance, there is nothing to forgive,' Anne moved towards her friend and clasped their hands together. 'I had to see him, no matter the risk.'

Constance swallowed, 'I couldn't write and tell you,' she said quietly.

'I know.' Anne smiled weakly back.

'It's not good,' Constance shook her head. 'His temperature won't come down. I've managed to get him to drink some water with honey in it but the last time he woke he didn't recognise me.' Anne felt her heart break slightly but she knew she had to be strong now. Aramis and Constance needed her.

'You need rest Constance,' she said quietly. 'Tell me what to do,' Constance started to object but Anne squeezed her friend's hands, 'please.'

Constance sighed and turned to look at Aramis. She knew she was exhausted but she wanted to tell the Queen to go back to the palace for her own safety. She smiled slightly as she realised that no matter how much she pleaded the Queen was going to stay. Her Majesty was a stubborn woman at the best of times and Constance knew her feelings for Aramis.

'If I tell you to go back to the palace, will you ignore me?' Constance asked with a small smile.

'I'm staying here until I **have** to leave and you will not convince me otherwise,' Anne stated although he expression showed warmth towards her friend.

Constance sighed as she took the second pan of water that she had asked for earlier and put it over the fire. Anne had removed her cloak and was now sat on Aramis' bed as she touched his forehead with worry shining in her eyes.

'He looks so drawn and gaunt,' she said quietly as Constance stood next to her.

'I know,' Constance sighed. 'I just want him to wake up and tease me about D'Artagnan or anything really.'

'He really didn't know who you were?'

'No. I think he believes he's...-'

'Back in Savoy,' Anne finished as Constance creased her brow in confusion.

'Captain Tréville told me,' she said simply. 'When we were captured,' she clarified.

'Just tell him he's safe and at the garrison,' Constance watched as Anne ran her fingers lovingly through his hair. His hair hadn't been washed or combed for a long time and she could feel dirt, sweat and blood in it but she didn't care. Seeing him like this only made her feelings stronger. 'You need to try and keep him cool with this,' Constance held up the bucket and cloth she had been using to cool him. 'Wipe the wet cloth over his skin to try and bring his temperature down. If he wakes try and get him to drink some of this water,' she indicated a pan similar to the one she had put over the fire. 'I've already put some honey in it so don't worry about that. The small vial contains a pain draught if he needs it.'

Constance finished by yawning widely as she realised how exhausted she was. Maybe it was a good thing Her Majesty had come as she knew she would fall asleep again very soon.

'The water on the fire?' Anne asked looking slightly concerned.

'Once it boils,' Constance realised the Queen was giving her a funny look. 'The water will have bubbles in it,' Constance explained as Anne nodded. 'Take it off the fire but make sure you use a cloth to hold it otherwise it will burn your hands. Let it cool and then add two spoons of honey to it.' Constance indicated the tablespoon and honey jar. 'It's for Aramis to drink when he wakes and there's no harm in you drinking it either.'

Anne noticed Constance's use of the word 'when' instead of 'if' and nodded that she had understood.

'Rest Constance,' Anne smiled at her friend as Constance reluctantly took the bed nearest the door. She stripped off her boots and lay on the sheets.

'If you need me, wake me,' she said as she brought the blankets over herself and within a minute she was fast asleep.

* * *

Anne watched as Constance fell asleep and suddenly she felt all alone and afraid. She had to care for Aramis now but what if he didn't wake? What if he died? What if it was her fault because she couldn't care for him properly? What would the other musketeers say? Surely they would hate her!

She shook herself from her thoughts as she re-wet the cloth that Constance had put on Aramis' brow earlier and replaced it on his forehead. She touched his arm and could feel the heat radiating from it and she started to cool the exposed skin on his body. She trembled as she reached his fingertips and again as she carefully cooled his chest and then his legs. The marks of his torture were horrific to her and she couldn't imagine living through so much pain and anguish. She had to keep checking that he was breathing to confirm that he was alive as she worried that at any moment he would stop breathing and die on her. She wasn't sure she could cope with that.

She settled into a rhythm of which she was glad as it meant her actions didn't require much thought. Periodically she checked the water on the fire and finally determined that it had boiled when she saw a lot of bubbles rising in the water. The pan was heavier than she thought and she needed two hands to carry it, but she just about managed to move it from the fire to the table nearby where she left it to cool.

At some point a cadet came in and left some food and wine for her. Anne thanked him while continuing her work on Aramis making sure her face was turned away from the cadet so that she wouldn't be recognised. She couldn't think of eating as the time crept by and Aramis' condition didn't improve.

She was cooling his chest when he started mumbling but his eyes were closed. He mumbled some more and his face crinkled into clear distress. 'No, no,' he called as he became agitated.

'Aramis,' she called and his eyes were suddenly wide open but Anne realised he couldn't actually see her as there was no recognition in his brown orbs. His eyes were fearful and she'd never seen him look this way. She couldn't imagine what he was seeing.

'Aramis,' she called again as a flicker of recognition crossed his eyes. 'You're safe and at the garrison.' It took a moment but he relaxed at her words although he looked and her with clear confusion. 'You need to drink this,' she held the cup that contained the honeyed water that she'd thought to pour earlier.

She waited for any sign that he understood but she didn't receive it. She carefully moved her left hand underneath his head and lifted him off the pillow as she pressed the cup to his lips. She was surprised to see him drink without question even though he clearly had no idea who she was. He pulled away to show that he had had enough and she settled the cup back on the table beside the bed.

Aramis continued to stare at her as his eyes started to droop. She took it as a good sign that he had woken but she was still afraid for him. Soon he was asleep again and Anne was surprised that Constance hadn't woken with his mumbling. Anne thought for moment about waking her friend but then dismissed the idea as Constance had looked after Aramis' throughout the day and now needed rest if she was going to care for him after Anne had left.

Anne set back to work but after a while she started to wonder at whether his skin had cooled slightly or whether she was just imagining it. After about half an hour, she was sure she wasn't imagining it. His legs certainly felt cooler and she quickly moved a blanket over him up to his waist.

She removed the cloth from his brow and smiled with relief when she realised that his fever had indeed broken. She moved to check the water that was cooling and determined it was cool enough to add the honey. She laughed at herself as she found herself rather sticky after she spilt some. She had never poured honey before but she did rather enjoy licking it off her fingers. Such scandalous behaviour!

She felt a prickle on the back of her neck and slowly turned to see Aramis' eyes open and looking directly at her. She suddenly felt nervous and worried yet she was also happy to see him awake. She moved towards him and sat on the bed at his right side instead of the chair.

Aramis' eyes held confusion but also recognition unlike the previous time he woke. He knew who she was and that was a great relief to Anne.

'Would you like some water?' she asked quietly and he closed his eyes and opened them again. She took that as a yes. She poured the water and could see him trying to lift his head but he was too weak. 'It's alright. I'll help you,' she said as she slipped her left hand underneath his neck and gently lifted his head. She moved the cup to his lips and he drank a few mouthfuls before the slightest shake of the head told her he'd had enough. She lowered him back down onto the pillow gently and smiled warmly.

Aramis turned his head to see Constance asleep and he gave a small smile as he watched the sleeping woman..

'She looked after you for most of the day,' Anne said quietly. 'She's been worried sick.'

'You're really here?' he croaked as his voice was raspy from disuse.

'Yes,' Anne smiled back.

Aramis took account of his position and saw that his chest was exposed as well as his arms. He realised how pitiful he must look as he couldn't even raise his head on his own. Shame at his situation overwhelmed him as he had never wanted her to see him like this. He turned away from Anne as his eyes filled with tears at the shame of the situation he found himself in.

Anne was taken aback by Aramis' change in demeanour. She watched as he fully came to terms of his situation and then watched as he turned away from her. Her eyes filled with tears at his rejection as she couldn't understand why he would be so cold. Did he not want her here?

They stayed in their positions for a minute or two but Anne suddenly realised what had caused Aramis to turn away. She recognised the look in his eyes. He was ashamed for her to see him like this. He had always been her gallant musketeer and now he could protect no-one, including her. She sighed at her realisation and reached out to him. She cupped his chin in her right hand and gently turned his face back towards her. He didn't resist or maybe he couldn't.

'Aramis,' she called as he finally met her eyes with his. 'Do you honestly believe that I would think less of you?' He blinked and a tear ran down his cheek and Anne moved to brush it away with her thumb. 'If anything, it tells me how brave and strong you are,' she smiled and watched as his lips formed a small smile and he nuzzled into her hand slightly.

She bent down and kissed him on the mouth. He wasn't ready for it but he was soon he was kissing back as well as he could.

She pulled back slightly looking embarrassed at her sudden action but she saw him smile properly for the first time. His eyes shining with the love he held for her.

'You know...you're...taking...ad..vantage...of me...in a vul...vulnerable situation,' he stammered as Anne started to recoil while blushing furiously at her own actions.

He caught her chin with more deftness than he thought he possessed and although he was clearly weak she stopped moving with his touch.

'I...didn't say...I didn't...like it,' he grinned as he tugged her chin gently and she moved back towards him and pressed her lips against his again. She could taste the honey from the water she had given him to drink and eventually she pulled back and took his hand in hers.

She could see him fighting the sleep he so desperately needed and she moved a couple of strands of hair out of his eyes.

'Stop fighting,' she quietly ordered. 'You need rest.' He winced slightly and she remembered the pain draught Constance had told her about. 'Are you in pain?'

'A bit,' he said quietly as he was reluctant to say how much his body hurt. His chest was racked in pain and his muscles ached. His fingers, though healing, were throbbing and he had a horrible headache. Dehydration wasn't helping but his stomach would struggle with too much water.

'Drink this,' she lifted his head again and pressed the vial to his lips but he did not drink. 'Constance said it was a pain draught and don't worry, I didn't make it.' He gave a small laugh followed by a cough and then a wince at her words but still did not drink.

'If you're in pain you should take this,' she said pleadingly but she moved the vial away nevertheless.

'Pain...keeping me awake,' he mumbled as Anne realised that he wanted to spend more time with her. She wanted to spend more time with him too but she also wanted him to recover and he needed sleep. Her stubborn musketeer.

'You need rest,' she laid his head back down on the pillow and brushed her thumb across his cheek.

'Want to...stay...awake...with you,' he stammered but Anne could already see that he would be asleep sooner rather than later. He could not fight the rest his body needed, no matter how much he wanted to.

'You need rest and I will be with you until I have to leave,' she smiled warmly at him. 'You're in pain so stop being so stubborn.'

He gave a small laugh at her playful chastising. 'I won't see you again before you leave, will I?' he said regretfully.

'Probably not,' she agreed and continued to rub his cheek. 'But I will be happy knowing that you are recovering.'

Aramis winced again and Anne reached for the draught which this time Aramis took with no arguments and Anne kissed his forehead. Being awake for a short time had tired him out and he promptly fell back asleep as they both knew he would.

Anne got off the bed and moved the blanket up to his chin as his body returned to a normal temperature. Though still rather grey and gaunt he no longer looked distressed and was sleeping peacefully.

Anne moved towards the food the cadet and brought a while ago and saw that she had been given some bread, cheese, salted ham, grapes and an apple. Her stomach rumbled and for a moment she turned to check that the growl hadn't woken Constance or Aramis. She looked back to her musketeer and found her eyes filling with tears. Tears of relief.

It seemed that he would live and she was glad she had been here when he woke. No-one but Constance and Aramis could ever know that she had been here but she was certainly glad she came. The tears didn't want to stop but she welcomed them as they allowed all her worry to seep from her body. She knew he could still take a turn for the worse but her heart told her he would survive. He was strong and courageous. He was her musketeer. Her Aramis.

The tears finally stopped and she set about eating. She tore the bread, cheese and ham in half to leave some for Constance who would surely need it when she woke. The bread was slightly stale but Anne didn't notice as she chewed. It had been a long time since she'd eaten with her fingers and she was finding it rather amusing as she licked the sugar from the grapes off her fingers. She looked at the apple and wondered whether she should leave it for Constance but her stomach made the decision for her as it growled in a very un-Queen-like manner. She bit into the apple as she had no knife to carve it and she felt the juice dribble down her chin making her smile. She drank some wine and was surprised to find that it wasn't bad. She was well aware that there was good wine and bad wine.

Once finished with her food she sat in the chair next to Aramis' bed and watched him sleeping. She knew there was nothing else she could do for him now but she watched as his chest rose and fell in a gentle rhythm. It had been a risk coming here but as far as Anne was concerned, it had been a risk well worth taking.

* * *

 **A/N: As there was a lack of Aramis is the last chapter, (well, physically as he was emotionally all over it), I decided to leave this chapter with just the scene in the infirmary. I hope this will satisfy Annamis shippers (I'm one!) and we'll check in with the others in the next chapter. :)**

 **Thank you all for continuing to read this story. :)**


	39. Chapter 39

**Hello. Thank you for all your lovely comments on the last chapter and thank you to the guest reviewers whom I cannot reply to individually. :)**

 **This chapter caused a few problems and hasn't quite got as far as I originally thought. However, I decided to update today so there would be something to read.**

 **I hope you enjoy it. :)**

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Nine

When the Inseparables returned from the chapel they headed straight to their shared mattress. Tréville watched as the men lay down to sleep and wasn't at all surprised to see Porthos in the middle being used as a pillow by both D'Artagnan and Athos. They were all very downcast and Tréville was praying that they would return to find Aramis alive. If not, these men would be difficult to predict even for their former captain.

Sleep didn't come easily but exhaustion had finally overcome the men and they slept until sunlight started to enter the room through the windows. Tréville made sure he was awake before the others as he plotted the quickest and easiest way to get the Duke back to Paris. Thankfully, it seemed that the Duke's men had decided not to fight and that would make their departure far easier than it could have been.

Tréville was also worried about the information the Duke could give Louis about baby Henry and how the Musketeers had covered up Marie de Medici's coup along with the Cardinal, who could no longer answer to the monarch. In the mood he was currently in, and with Rochefort at his side, Louis would surely be annoyed at the Musketeers for lying rather than praising them for protecting him from his mother. Such was life.

Tréville watched over the silent room and his gaze was drawn to one mattress in particular. He knew he couldn't let them take the fall and therefore there was only once course of action. He was no longer their captain but he hoped they would have enough respect for him to do as he told them. He hated to use Aramis against them but he knew it may be his only option.

* * *

The sun was rising and Anne looked at Aramis who was sleeping soundly although his forehead was slightly creased in pain. She knew she would have to leave soon but her heart was now full of hope that he would indeed be well again. His appearance had been a shock to her but know she saw he was still the same man and even illness wasn't able to dull his handsome features. She smiled as she looked at him and was dreading leaving him without saying goodbye.

She held his hand and kissed his knuckles while wondering how he could still make her feel like a blushing little girl when he was ill and fast asleep.

'I take it his fever broke then,' came an amused voice from behind her.

Anne turned to Constance who was rubbing away the sleep from her eyes. 'Yes. And I managed to get him to drink the pain draught and some water,' Anne said clearly proud off herself.

'That is good news,' Constance sighed in relief.

'He was very weak but he did recognise me once the fever went down,' Anne smiled back.

'It was terrifying when he didn't know me,' Constance said quietly as she moved around the bed to check Aramis' temperature by touching his forehead. 'Fever's gone,' she declared.

'One of the cadets brought some food,' Anne indicated the food she had left for Constance and stepped away from Aramis.

'Did you eat it with your fingers, Your Majesty?' Constance asked in jest as she had noticed the lack of cutlery.

'It was a new experience,' Anne said as she blushed slightly.

'I find eating with your fingers tastes better,' Constance said as she popped some bread and cheese in her mouth. 'Not bad,' she announced as she licked her fingers clean.

'I ate the apple,' Anne suddenly said hesitantly.

'Don't worry,' Constance smiled. 'If I want an apple I'll send for one.' She continued to eat as she realised that she was now ravenous.

Anne looked out the window and was startled as to how light it was. 'I really should go,' she said despondently.

'Yes,' Constance agreed.

'Could you write me a note telling me of Aramis' condition?' Anne asked making Constance crease her brow in confusion.

'So if I let slip about Aramis' condition I have evidence,' Anne clarified as she knew she would most certainly end up telling someone that Aramis was recovering without any word being sent to her.

'Of course,' Constance nodded and retrieved paper and a quill form the infirmary office.

Anne watched as Aramis slept and she placed her cloak around her shoulders. She had to go and it was tearing her apart. She just hoped she hadn't been missed otherwise the explanation would be difficult.

'Here,' Constance handed over the note.

'Thank you,' Anne smiled back.

'Anne?' came a quiet croak from across the room and both women turned to see Aramis awake and looking directly at them.

'Aramis,' she called as she walked over to him and sat on his right side on the bed. Constance moved around so that she was sat on his left side. 'You're supposed to be resting,' Anne quietly chastised him.

'Had to see you,' he mumbled. 'Make sure...not a dream.' Anne stroked her hand down the right side of his face making him smile.

'I have to go,' Anne said quietly.

'T'was dangerous...to come,' he said earnestly as Anne rolled her eyes making both Aramis and Constance smile. 'I'm glad you did.'

Anne felt herself blush and Constance's giggle beside her told her that her friend had seen.

'Do you want some water?' Anne asked quietly as Aramis nodded slightly.

With Constance's help they managed to get Aramis to drink a few mouthfuls before he had had enough.

Aramis then looked between the two women sat on his bed and smiled.

'What?' Constance demanded in the brisk manner that she often used when she was stating her authority. Aramis was under no illusion that he held any power in this room. At least for now.

'My nurses are...much better looking...than usual,' he grinned dopily.

He watched as Constance and Anne exchanged slightly confused looks.

'They normally have beards,' he smiled as realisation hit the two women in front of him that he was talking about the other musketeers. 'Well two of them do,' he looked to Constance with a glint in his eye. 'The other one is...trying.'

Constance put on her best 'offended face' and very lightly flicked his cheek with her hand.

'What for...this time?' he sighed.

'For being you,' she smiled warmly at him and he squeezed her hand in return. His eyelids were starting to close now as exhaustion took him over.

'I have to go,' Anne squeezed his hand gently. 'I do wonder if my son is still clinging to his favourite teddy bear,' she smiled and saw Aramis' eyes light up. 'He does so love that teddy bear.'

'You mean the one that calms him instantly?' Constance added looking amused.

'Yes, that's the one.'

'Be careful and stay safe,' Aramis murmured as he raised Anne's hand to his lips.

'Always,' she replied. 'And you get better,' she leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

'Always,' he replied as his eyes shut and didn't reopen.

Anne gently tucked his arm under the blanket and stood. She smiled to Constance who moved around the bed to give her friend a hug.

'Be safe going back,' Constance said quietly.

'I will,' Anne replied. 'I just hope that my absence hasn't been noted.'

'Surely you ladies will wake you at the normal time and you have been up all night,' Constance said looking worried.

'They will and I will tell them that I didn't sleep well and that they are to leave me,' Anne said confidently. 'Assuming that no-one has noticed that I wasn't in bed.'

'I think he was glad to see you,' Constance smiled as Anne blushed. 'I'll take good care of him. Well as long as he behaves,' Constance had a mischievous twinkle in her eye which made Anne smile.

'I know you will,' Anne said as she moved towards the door. She took one last glance at Aramis before she opened the door and then shut it behind her.

Constance moved to sit in the vacant chair next to Aramis' bed. 'Don't you dare get any worse now,' she threatened quietly.

* * *

Anne quickly found the stable boy who quickly saddled her horse for her. It was still early but the sun had clearly risen and Anne knew she would be exposed. She hoped that she would manage to return to the palace without attracting any attention.

She quickly mounted and guided her horse through the streets. What she saw staggered her as she saw many men and women clearly inebriated and even saw one man and woman having sex in an alley in clear view of anyone who passed by. She had always known that the streets of Paris had their problems but now she realised how sheltered she had been.

She made it to the stables without incident and was grateful. She started to relax but quickly turned away from the red guards that were guarding the stables. She hadn't noticed someone standing behind her until she turned to look him in the eye.

'Jean. You startled me,' she said as she placed her hand over her thumping heart.

'Forgive me, Your Majesty,' he bowed. Anne felt her heart turn to ice. She had been recognised and now she may have a serious amount of explaining to do. 'Are you ok?' Jean jolted her out of her terrifying thoughts.

'Yes,' she gulped. Jean suddenly moved and Anne realised her was blocking her from the guards.

'I'm assuming that you do not wish to be seen,' he smiled warmly. 'Who is Constance?'

'One of my ladies,' she answered honestly as she waited for him to reveal his next move.

'I thought I recognised you last night but in the darkness I told myself I was seeing things,' he said conversationally as he unsaddled the horse that Anne had used.

'What do you intend to do?' Anne asked with a resigned expression.

'What you do is your business and absolutely none of mine,' he reassured her. He wasn't talking to her as if she was Queen and she rather liked that. 'I'll escort you back to the servants quarters so you can lay low. I doubt they know your gone otherwise this place would be crawling with guards.' He was still smiling warmly.

'Thank you,' Anne sighed in relief.

Once Jean had finished with the horses he checked where the guards were. They were currently talking with their backs to stables.

'Useful as always,' Jean muttered under his breath before blushing.

'In this case, I think its best that they are idle,' she stated and gave Jean a smile.

'Just don't look at them and hold onto me,' he said quietly as she took Jean's arm.

Jean appeared to know all of the servants but none took a lot of notice of Anne. One questioned him about her but didn't really look at her as Jean explained that she was new. Eventually, they arrived at the stairwell which led to her apartments.

'Thank you Jean,' she said gratefully.

'A Queen's got to have some secrets,' he winked. 'As far as I know I met a new maid called Constance.'

'Thank you for your discretion,' she nodded to him as he turned away.

'If you ever need to escape again...I work in the kitchens,' he turned and left. Anne suddenly thought of the many reasons why she shouldn't take up his offer as well as the reasons why she should.

She climbed the stairs and walked past her son's room as quietly as she could. Clearly, Jean had been right that her disappearance hadn't been noted and she quickly entered her bedroom and stripped off her clothes. She placed Constance's letter to her in her desk drawer to make sure she had it if she let slip that she knew about Aramis' condition. She knew her ladies would be in to wake her soon but she would just tell them to leave her as she had had very little sleep. That certainly wasn't a lie.

She settled herself between the sheets as a smile formed on her face. Aramis was back from the brink and, although he still had far to go, she was sure he would recover.

* * *

As the sunlight became stronger the musketeers started to rise from their short sleep. All of them knew that the Duke was going to be a pain and the trip back to Paris would be testing. What they didn't know was how annoying the Duke was going to be before they had even set off!

'I must be clean to see the King,' he said pompously. The bruises that adorned his face from Porthos' and Athos' punches were clearly visible.

'You are under arrest,' Tréville growled.

'I am used to certain standards and I slept the night on the floor and therefore I must wash and wear clean clothes.'

Tréville turned to look at Athos who was smirking and Athos' glance told the former captain what was on the man's mind.

'Ok,' Tréville agreed as the Duke looked slightly surprised that his request was being granted. 'It will take time for the horses to be saddled and my men require sustenance so you should able to wash and dress in that time.' Tréville's smile was unnerving the Duke. 'Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan will oversee your ablutions.' Tréville watched as the cocky Duke realised what Tréville had said.

'We would be honoured to be of service,' Athos drawled as he indicated that the Duke should show them to his chambers. Porthos and D'Artagnan exchanged smirks.

The Duke did his best to hold his head high but he realised that he had certainly not won this round.

The Duke quickly came to realise that he would be afforded no privacy at all as the three musketeers watched him undress and wash.

'You missed a bit,' Porthos called clearly amused at the situation as he bit down on an apple. They hadn't allowed the Duke's dresser in the room either but he was rather glad that Athos had chosen a decent outfit.

'Practical and elegant,' he had said as he chomped some grapes.

'You might want to hurry this up as the longer you take the faster we have to ride,' D'Artagnan pitched in with a grin as he munched some cheese and bread.

'And the faster we go the more dust we kick up,' Porthos added.

The Duke was soon washed and dressed and biting back his embarrassment and he had no idea how else to delay the trip. He was rather annoyed that his own men had run away and that only a few of the musketeers had real injuries.

'Feeling better?' Tréville raised an eyebrow as the Duke emerged.

'I am at least clean,' the Duke replied.

'Good. Time to go,' Tréville led the Duke outside where the remaining musketeers were already mounted and ready to leave.

'Where's my carriage?' the Duke demanded.

'Takes too long,' Porthos growled as he pushed the Duke towards the horse he would be riding.

'Hands,' Athos demanded and the Duke took a look around before complying. Athos tied the Duke's hands loosely enough to be able to use the reins but there was enough restriction that the Duke couldn't do much else.

The Duke mounted and then noticed that the reins of his horse were also connected to another horse. Porthos' horse.

'Weren't thinking of riding off, were yer?' Porthos chuckled when he saw the Duke's glance.

'Let's go,' Tréville called as the group started to head towards Paris.

* * *

Constance sat at Aramis' bedside as he continued to sleep. She had left him briefly to see to her own needs but she wasn't worried about him anymore. She had instructed the garrison cook to make some broth and he complied, but he did seem rather put out about following her instructions. When she had forced the issue that it was for Aramis he had confirmed that he would do as she asked.

She rose from her chair and decided that the place needed a proper clean and set to work. She cleaned all of the work surfaces with the left over water that she had used to cool Aramis and felt she had done a rather good job.

Suddenly, she felt eyes looking at her and turned to see Aramis awake and smiling.

'How long have you been watching?' she placed he hands on her hips.

'A while,' he smiled back.

'How are you feeling?' she moved across to him.

'Fine,' he said automatically and then winced at Constance's disbelieving expression.

'You call this fine?' she indicated him lying in the bed.

'Alright. I'm in pain, my head hurts, I'm dehydrated and I feel useless,' he reeled off.

'Well, at least you're telling the truth now,' she smiled as she helped him sit up. He was very weak but he had lost a lot of body weight and Constance was able to manoeuvre him into a sitting position as he rested on pillows.

'Here,' she said as she brought water to his lips and he drank greedily.

'Constance?'

'Yes.'

'Could you go and get one of the cadets for me, please?' he asked looking slightly apprehensive.

'Why?' Constance asked looking confused.

'Well...it's just that...I...I need to relieve myself,' he finally huffed looking embarrassed. Constance had never seen him blush like that. Ever.

'Oh.' She said. 'You don't want me looking.' He nodded without meeting her eyes. 'Who's to say I didn't already take a peek?' she teased.

'Constance!' he sounded exasperated as she grinned widely.

'You think you're the only one that can tease?' she laughed.

The door to the infirmary opened and Dr. Jardin walked in and looked rather stunned by the scene in front of him. After a moment he regained his senses and smiled as he moved towards Aramis.

'Well monsieur, I hope you can forgive me for believing the worst when I arrived here today,' Dr. Jardin looked slightly anxious.

'I did too,' Aramis admitted.

'I told you he was stubborn,' Constance smiled.

'And I apologise to you too Madame-'

'No need,' Constance waved his apology away. 'Right,' she said suddenly business-like. 'I'm going to check on the broth I ordered for you and the good doctor can help you with using the chamber pot.' With that she left Aramis smirking and the doctor looking a bit stunned.

'You don't argue with her, do you?' the Jardin smiled at Aramis.

'Not if you want to live,' Aramis agreed.

'Right let's move you to the edge of the bed,' Jardin said as he helped Aramis sit at the edge of the bed. Jardin picked up the chamber pot and realised he would have to hold it for the musketeer.

Aramis looked embarrassed as the doctor steadied him by placing a hand on his shoulder while the other hand held the pot.

'Don't worry, I've seen it all before,' the doctor said quietly and Aramis knew he had no reason to be embarrassed but he couldn't stop the feeling.

'You're very dehydrated which is unsurprising,' Jardin said as he helped Aramis back into a sitting position, leaning against the pillows.

The doctor then checked Aramis' cuts and was pleased to report that the infection seemed to be gone and that they were starting to heal. Aramis fingernails, though still dark from dried blood, were starting to clear and evidence of new nail growth could be seen at the quicks.

'Not too shabby,' the doctor chuckled once he had finished his examination. 'You will need rest though,' he said poignantly.

'I know,' Aramis said with an air of petulance.

'I expect your sister will keep you in line,' the doctor's eyes held a knowing look.

'You know she's not my sister,' Aramis admitted.

'Of course,' Jardin smiled back. 'But she protected you like one. You mean a lot to her and she does to you. But it's not romantic,' the doctor said thoughtfully. 'It is rather like siblings.'

'I suppose it is,' Aramis agreed and then yawned.

'Oh no you don't,' Constance appeared in the doorway as Aramis was yawning. 'You're having some of this broth before you sleep again.'

'How can I argue with that?' Aramis turned to see Jardin smiling.

'I shall leave you both to it. Here are another couple of pain draughts,' he said as he collected his things. 'I will update Dr. Lemay and I'll check in on you this evening. You know where to find me if you need me,' he gave a last smile and left the room.

Constance sat on the bed and lifted the cup which Aramis tried to take but his hands wouldn't let him. Constance could see the frustration creeping into his expression.

'Stop expecting too much of yourself,' she smiled kindly as he finally drank with her help. He managed a few more mouthfuls before shaking his head and then stopping as his headache made itself known.

'Here,' Constance helped him drink the pain draught and then helped him lie down.

'Thank you,' he mumbled as his eyes shut and sleep overcame him again.

* * *

 **A/N: If you're wondering what has happened to Rochefort, he will be back in the next chapter. If you were wondering...**


	40. Chapter 40

**Ok. Rochefort returns and he has some clearing up to do. Bit of a filler chapter this one but it was necessary. Some slightly bigger parts for my supporting cast.  
**

 **Please don't kill me for how I've left the end of the chapter! Enjoy. :)**

* * *

Chapter Forty

Rochefort woke after a satisfying night. He hadn't managed to take care of Aramis himself but the news that the musketeer wasn't going to last the night had been welcome. Aramis had looked at death's door when he had seen him so it was unlikely that he would have somehow survived. In the unlikely event that he did, he would not be able to testify along with the Duke, at least not straight away.

Rochefort now needed to silence the Duke before he could tell Louis about the traitor at court. He hoped that the Duke had fled when he had received the letter but Rochefort was growing uneasy. The King should be easy enough to manipulate as long as Rochefort flattered him and pressed the right buttons. He was getting good at that.

* * *

The musketeers had travelled much of the morning with little incident. The Duke had kept his mouth shut which suited them all just fine. Tréville was wondering when he should broach the subject of the Duke's intentions to destroy the Musketeer regiment and take the Inseparables down with him. He decided to keep quiet for now as he would take the lead when they were presented before Louis and they wouldn't contradict him in front of the King.

'How long until I can get off this horse?!' the Duke moaned loudly as Tréville rolled his eyes.

'Soon,' he said testily. 'We'll stop for lunch when we spot a good area.'

'Hmph,' came the response as Porthos then kicked Flip lightly and steered him sharply to the left so the Duke had to hang on. 'What was that for?'

'Just missin' the massive hole. Not good for the horses,' Porthos grinned as the Duke scowled.

'That looks like a good spot,' Athos pointed towards a spot that had previously been used as a campsite.

As they approached, the remnants of a fire could be seen and the musketeers quickly dismounted and scouted the area. There was a copse of trees nearby but it was thoroughly searched and then the men settled on the ground to eat their lunch, much to the Duke's disgust.

He was given some cheese and bread along with an apple. The look Athos gave him made it clear that it was all the food he was going to get so he started to chew.

He watched as Athos and Porthos finished their food quickly and went to talk to Tréville leaving the Duke alone with D'Artagnan.

* * *

'What's the plan?' Athos asked as he approached Tréville.

'I'm going to send Gabriel and Vasselin ahead of us,' Tréville answered. 'They can make Louis aware that we have been successful in apprehending the Duke.'

'Why not us?' Athos asked with a little desperation.

'Because I need you three around the Duke. The last thing we want is him realising how worried we truly are about Aramis,' Tréville said with sympathy in his voice. 'We don't want to give him any confidence or any thought that he has an advantage. Sending you three would send the wrong message to the Duke.'

'Hopefully, Louis will see us straight away as it's going to be a late arrival,' Porthos said changing the subject while voicing the knowledge that the King could be fickle when time was involved.

'I know,' Tréville sighed. 'At least with forewarning he should be ready.'

'Gabriel. Vasselin,' Tréville called and the musketeers moved towards him immediately.

'You two get ready now, ride ahead and go directly to the palace announcing that we are transporting the Duke and will be back later tonight,' he instructed.

'Yes, Captain,' they chorused.

'Make it clear that it is urgent and don't take no for an answer. You wait as long as you have to and make sure your presence is felt. Do **not** be put off by Rochefort. You must see the King yourselves,' Tréville insisted.

'Yes, Captain,' they nodded as they moved to quickly pack their things and ride off as soon as possible.

'Rochefort will do everything he can to stop the Duke from seeing the King,' Athos said quietly. 'He will want to threaten him first.'

'Of course, but Rochefort knows how to manipulate Louis and I have a feeling he will find a way,' Tréville responded.

'An' there's nothing we can do about it,' Porthos shook his head despondently.

They glanced towards the Duke who still had D'Artagnan nearby and started to pack up, ready to depart as soon as possible.

* * *

The Duke watched as Athos and Porthos left and he was left alone with the young one. D'Artagnan.

'You're newer to the Musketeers,' the Duke raised an eyebrow.

'Yes,' D'Artagnan responded tersely eager to avoid any conversation with the Duke. He was feeling slightly vulnerable under the Duke's gaze without Athos and Porthos nearby.

'Can't have known Aramis long then?' the Duke continued. 'Did you know about the baby that he threw in the river?'

'I was there,' D'Artagnan growled. 'He was knocked from his horse and the baby fell into the river. He did **not** do it on purpose.' D'Artagnan was doing his best not to reveal that baby Henry had actually survived. He knew this was a dangerous conversation and wanted it to stop.

'So you're as culpable as they are,' the Duke nodded towards Athos, Porthos and Tréville. 'Enjoy your time as a musketeer, it may not last much longer. I'm half hoping Aramis survived...just to be executed alongside his lying friends. Of course, he could already be dead,' the Duke sneered as D'Artagnan felt the anger rise within him but he also knew that the Duke was correct. Louis would not be very happy to learn that the Musketeers had lied to him about his mother.

'Well, that remains to be seen,' D'Artagnan put on his best mask trying not to show his emotions. 'Aramis is stronger than you think and the King has never truly enjoyed his mother's company. What is certain, is that you will meet your death at the hands of the executioner.' D'Artagnan relished seeing the Duke's expression fall for a moment but he hoped his worry wasn't showing as it appeared that they were all in danger.

'Time to go,' Porthos voice startled the men and they were soon packed up and on their way to Paris once more.

* * *

Gabriel and Vasselin pushed their horses forward and were soon in sight of Paris. They knew the others were some way behind them and although they had been in the presence of the King before, neither were truly comfortable in addressing him. Tréville and the Inseparables usually dealt with that. They were also aware that they would need all their courage as Rochefort would use any chance he could to sneer at them and that they would need confident answers.

They were soon at the palace gates and dismounted telling the guards that they needed to see the King.

Both men were nervous but they had decided between them that Gabriel would take the lead.

'Gentlemen,' Rochefort's voice startled them slightly. 'What is it that you wish to convey to the King?' Rochefort knew now that it was highly likely that the Duke had been captured. Musketeers wouldn't be sent ahead for any other reason except maybe if the majority of men had been injured.

'We have been instructed to speak to the King himself,' Gabriel's voice did not quiver as he spoke.

'I can pass on any message,' Rochefort replied silkily.

'We will wait until His Majesty is able to see us,' Gabriel stood his ground making Rochefort grimace internally.

'It is regarding the Duke?'

'Yes, but I shall reveal no more,' Gabriel really didn't like the way Rochefort was looking at him.

'Very well,' Rochefort slunk away leaving the musketeers to stand in place and sigh in relief.

A few minutes later the King appeared with Rochefort in tow and the musketeers bowed.

'Tell me,' Louis waved his hand nonchalantly.

'Should we not wait for Her Majesty?' Rochefort dared to interrupt as he had noticed that Queen Anne hadn't been around for most of the day.

'No,' Louis sighed. 'She has been struggling to sleep after everything that has happened. I was informed that she had a rather restless night.'

'That is unfortunate,' Rochefort replied feeling guilty about the reasons for the Queen's troubled sleep. He was still disappointed that she hadn't come to him though. He had thought she would have by now.

'Indeed,' Louis looked solemn. 'Carry on,' he waved to Gabriel.

'Sire, the Duke of Épernon was successfully apprehended last night. He is being escorted to Paris as we speak and his arrival will be later on tonight,' Gabriel said with more confidence than he felt.

'Good,' Louis nodded. 'I wish to ask him exactly why he would put my wife, my Queen, in danger like that. Not to mention torture one of my musketeers.' Gabriel and Vasselin were happy to hear that Louis still regarded his musketeers highly.

'Is that all?' Rochefort asked pointedly.

'Yes,' Gabriel replied stiffly.

'Go and rest,' Louis dismissed them with a wave of his hand as Gabriel and Vasselin bowed and left.

Louis walked towards his chambers with Rochefort following slightly behind.

'At least I will find out the truth,' Louis huffed as he sat down in his chambers.

'Indeed, Sire,' Rochefort agreed while trying to stop the panic rising within him. The Duke had been foolish enough to get caught and now Rochefort knew he had to something about it. Urgently. 'Perhaps it would be best for the Duke to spend the night in the Bastille?'

'What makes you say that?' Louis sounded rather angry and Rochefort knew he would need all of his skills to change the King's mind.

'I was merely thinking that the arrival would disrupt your evening. If the Duke was placed in the Bastille, he would still be able to face you in the morning and Her Majesty may also be feeling up to seeing him as well,' Rochefort used his best submissive tone while making his point. This worked rather well on Louis giving the King the impression he was in control and yet Rochefort could make his point heard.

'I suppose...' Louis still didn't look entirely convinced.

'Surely everyone will be far more refreshed in the morning so that this issue can be dealt with as civilly as possible. Tempers may fray quickly otherwise,' Rochefort watched as Louis considered.

'I suppose the musketeers and the Duke will be tired and their tempers may fray. I'm also feeling a little fatigued and Anne could do with being there as well. Hmmm,' Louis thought some more but Rochefort could see that he was likely to get his way.

'I could send the Red Guard to intercept their arrival and escort the Duke to the Bastille, while Tréville, Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan report to you,' Rochefort prodded hoping that he hadn't overstepped his duties.

'That is a good idea Rochefort,' Louis announced to Rochefort's relief. 'I do wish to see Tréville but the Duke may cause more anger than I wish to feel tonight. Arrange it,' Louis waved his hand in dismissal.

'Yes, Sire,' Rochefort bowed and tried to hide his grin. The King really was easy to manipulate. 'I'll see to it at once.'

* * *

Aramis had been resting quietly for a few hours so Constance decided to have a quick nap. Most of the regiment was away and right now she couldn't care less if she was found asleep in the infirmary. She slept for a couple of hours and woke and stretched and heard a small snicker to her left.

Aramis was awake and had somehow gotten himself upright. The sweat on his brow told her it had been quite an effort but it appeared that he had succeeded.

'You don't understand what rest means, do you?' she quirked a very Athos-like eyebrow as she swung her legs out of bed.

'I'm good at preaching it...but doing it...not so much,' he confessed with a smile.

Constance quickly put on her boots and took a cloth and wiped his brow. She didn't immediately notice to change in Aramis' expression.

'I'll go and see if there is any broth for you,' she quietly. 'What's wrong?' she asked as she took the chair next to his bed, sensing that he needed to speak.

'I don't deserve your help,' he mumbled so Constance could only just hear.

'What **are** you on about?' Constance shook her head disbelievingly.

'I've caused you so many problems. Why would you want to help me?' Aramis looked very dejected as Constance creased her brow in confusion.

'Explain,' she said as she sat back her chair.

'I've brought you so many problems. I brought Marsac to your house and he attacked you and he was a deserter. Not to mention he tried to assassinate the Duke of Savoy. I involved you with baby Henry which could have put you in a lot of danger. And now you harbour my secret that could have you executed for treason,' he sighed despondently and dared not to look at Constance.

'Is that all?' she quirked a smile but Aramis didn't return it. 'Alright then. D'Artagnan came charging into my life after he was accused of murder and ran into me at the market. Subsequently got me to dress up as a prostitute to distract the guards. Although, I did rather do that to help Athos. Let's see, D'Artagnan also lied to me to hide Marsac and then both of you got me to go inside that dump to find baby Henry. Oh, and Athos' crazy wife tried to killed me. Her Majesty took me into Emilie's camp and thankfully you were there to help us. And well yes, the secret is your fault but other than that you're hardly to blame for everything. Oh, and D'Artagnan was the reason I met you all so really the whole thing is his fault.'

Aramis finally cracked a smile. 'It seems that Porthos is the only one not to put you in danger,' Aramis still looked rather down but he was smiling.

'Oh, something will. Give it time,' she sighed. 'Aramis, I don't blame you or resent you for anything that has happened. Honestly.'

'But still-'

'But still nothing,' Constance took his hand and squeezed reassuringly. 'I wouldn't change anything. But maybe I should be asking for your forgiveness.'

'Mine? Why?' he asked confused.

'For thinking the worst of you,' she smiled ruefully. 'I can see that you love her.'

'You thought that I was just toying with Her Majesty?' he asked earnestly as Constance moved to sit on the bed so she was face to face with him.

'It did cross my mind,' she confessed. 'I see a lot of women at the palace who are rather taken with you,' her voice held a hint of amusement while she saw Aramis blush slightly. 'Your reputation is well known, but I know you better than that.'

'I have a reputation for a reason Constance,' he said quietly.

'Perhaps,' she waited for him to make eye-contact. 'But I rather think that it is exaggerated somewhat. I see how you look at her and how she looks at you.'

'It's impossible, I know,' he sighed. 'I always seem to want what I cannot have...but this time it's different.'

'Don't we all,' she sighed and it was Aramis who squeezed her hand in comfort.

'There is still a chance for you and D'Artagnan,' he said with belief in his eyes.

'How? I can't leave my husband as then I will be alone and without any security,' she said bitterly

'I know how hard it is for women. That they must rely upon husbands,' he sympathised. 'I still believe that you two are meant to be together.'

'Maybe,' Constance said dejectedly.

'If it makes you feel any better, there is more chance of you and D'Artagnan being together than I ever have of being anywhere near Anne.'

'That doesn't make me feel better,' Constance couldn't help but give a small smile at the ludicrous situations that they both found themselves in.

'I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you,' Aramis said honestly.

'You're apologising for something I would never change,' Constance leant forward and gently wrapped her arms around him. 'If I didn't spend time worrying about your four, I don't what I'd do with my spare time!' Aramis chuckled as held her to his chest.

'Thank you, for everything,' he said quietly. 'Even when you're being bossy and slapping me,' he added.

Constance pulled back, stood and put her hands on her hips. 'I am **not** bossy!'

'You are,' he grinned. 'And you do slap me.'

'Funny that it is only you who I feel the need to slap,' she retorted but she was clearly amused. 'Stay put while I go and find some broth for you.'

'I thought you said you weren't bossy,' Aramis quipped.

'If making sure that you don't cause yourself further injury is bossy, then I am guilty. So stay put,' she gave him an amusingly threatening look and left making Aramis chuckle quietly to himself.

* * *

The musketeers continued their journey as the light started to fade. Paris was close now and they were eager to deliver their prisoner. Soon they made their way through the city gates and found a squad of red guards in front of them.

'What is it?' Tréville asked as he was tired and wanted this day to end. He was also desperate to find out Aramis' fate.

'The King has commanded that the prisoner should be taken directly to the Bastille and will face His Majesty tomorrow morning,' the guard said confidently.

Tréville's heart sank. Rochefort must have influenced the King and no doubt the Duke would be told to keep quiet by the traitor.

'Alright,' he sighed. 'Take the Duke to the Bastille,' he waved to the musketeers.

'The King wishes to see you,' the guard looked down at a piece of paper, 'Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan immediately.'

Tréville sighed. 'Ok.'

'The Red Guard can transfer the Duke-'

'No,' Tréville said sharply. 'You may aid the Musketeers but you will not replace them.' The other musketeers nodded as the reins of the Duke's horse were transferred to another musketeer, leaving Porthos free to ride to the palace.

'Let's go,' Tréville said dejectedly to the Inseparables.

* * *

They arrived at the palace hoping that Louis would see them quickly. All of them were desperate for news on Aramis and now that the Duke wasn't to see the King, they were even more eager.

Thankfully, Louis didn't keep them waiting long but he was accompanied by Rochefort and the men had to control their emotions.

'So, the Duke is in the Bastille?' Louis asked as the men stood up straight after they had bowed.

'There are musketeers and red guards transferring him now,' Tréville stated as he watched Rochefort who didn't flicker.

'Good. I will see him in the morning. I suggest you all get some rest,' Louis said importantly.

'Sire,' Treville started and Louis nodded to indicate that he should continue. 'Has there been any word on Aramis?'

The musketeers held their breath and their hearts sank as Louis exchanged an awkward glance with Rochefort.

'I'm afraid that when I went to visit him last night, Doctor Jardin was not hopeful that Aramis would make it through the night,' Rochefort did his best to sound empathetic but the musketeers could hear the falseness in his voice.

'I thought Doctor Lemay was treatin' him?' Porthos questioned without thinking.

'He was, but an emergency came up at the palace,' Rochefort answered. 'Aramis was clearly unwell with a high fever which was why the doctor didn't expect him to last the night. I haven't heard any word to the contrary.'

The musketeers felt dread fill their hearts. It seemed that their worst fears had been realised. Aramis had been taken from them.

* * *

 **A/N: Actually, I don't apologise for the end. :P**


	41. Chapter 41

**Slightly longer chapter this one. I did leave it in an evil place last time. ;)**

 **Now on 200 reviews! Thank you to everyone who has left a review. I read them all and reply to those I can.**

 **Hope you enjoy this chapter. :)**

* * *

Chapter Forty-One

The musketeers stood still, numb with the shock at what they had just heard. Rochefort may be evil but that would not be a reason to lie about something like this in front of the King. Aramis was gone.

'I know how hard this must be to hear,' Louis said with honest sympathy in his voice. 'Perhaps it is best that you get some sleep before I see the Duke tomorrow.'

'Thank you, Majesty,' Tréville recovered first as he looked to the heartbroken men beside him.

For once Louis seemed to understand the emotion flooding the room and the still forms of the remaining Inseparables. 'Goodnight,' he said quietly forgiving the men for not bowing as he left.

Rochefort watched with glee as the Inseparables shattered before his eyes. His main goal of luring Anne closer had appeared to have failed but an unexpected bonus was the breaking of the Inseparables. Not too bad a result.

Rochefort left the room with the still stunned musketeers stood in place.

Tréville looked at his men and saw D'Artagnan staring back at him with tears in his eyes. Tréville moved across to him.

'It's not true,' D'Artagnan mumbled.

'It can't be,' Porthos spoke suddenly.

'Hang on a minute,' everyone turned their attention to Athos. 'Rochefort said that Aramis was still alive when he saw him last night. It hasn't been confirmed that Aramis is dead.'

'He was bad before we left,' Porthos said sadly. 'That fever was only goin' to get worse.'

'Athos is right,' Tréville said firmly. 'Let us not mourn him until we know for certain that he is no longer with us.'

Tréville headed for the door as the others glumly followed. Although they had been alone in the room none of them had wanted an audience for their grief and the palace could easily provide that. They moved quietly along the hallways as they headed for the exit so they could return home and find out the truth. A truth they weren't sure they wanted to know. They passed into the Queen's chambers and were soon faced by Queen Anne herself.

They bowed to her and Anne saw the state they were in.

'What has happened?' she enquired as she waved her ladies away to give them some privacy.

'Your Majesty,' Tréville looked her in the eye. 'We have apprehended the Duke and he is currently secure in the Bastille.'

'Then why do you all look so sombre?' she asked as her fear started to grow. Had something happened?

'Rochefort has just informed us that Aramis wasn't expected to make it through the night,' Tréville said with emotion in his voice. Anne studied the others and saw that they all looked heartbroken. But this couldn't be right. Aramis' fever had broken when she had left. He was recovering.

'Did he say when this information was received?' she asked as a thought occurred to her.

'Last night when he visited Aramis,' Athos answered quietly and with a quiver in his voice that Anne had never heard before.

Rochefort must have been there before her because he had not arrived while she had tended to Aramis. 'Then, I'm happy to tell you that Constance sent me note saying that Aramis' fever broke in the night and that he was almost 'back to his usual self',' she said doing her best to look slightly confused. 'There were exclamation marks,' she added.

The effect of her words was instantaneous. D'Artagnan toppled into Porthos who was close enough to the wall that he could lean on it propping them both up. Tréville exhaled deeply and his left hand rose to cover his mouth but it was Athos' reaction that surprised Anne the most. His knees buckled beneath him and he was forced to grab a nearby table so he didn't crash to the ground.

It took a few moments before anyone dared to speak. Anne knew that they all cared deeply about each other but she was still surprised by the depth of feeling that had caused their reactions to the news.

'He's alive?' Tréville asked quietly as if he had misunderstood her words.

'From what Constance told me, yes,' Anne smiled warmly.

Athos somehow regained his balance and managed to stand without clutching the table. Porthos pushed off from the wall still holding a rather limp D'Artagnan and then tried to get the younger man standing on his own. D'Artagnan seemed to finally snap out of his trance as he swayed slightly before regaining his balance.

'I should inform His Majesty,' Tréville looked slightly shocked by the news that Aramis was recovering after preparing himself for the worst.

'I will do that, Captain,' Anne said softly. 'I think the four of you are needed elsewhere.'

The musketeers were still in somewhat of a daze as they began to truly realise that they would encounter Aramis alive, although not completely well. He was alive.

'Wait,' D'Artagnan stopped after they had disappeared down a corridor. 'Did we just forget to bow before we left?'

'Yeah, I think we did,' Porthos sounded hesitant.

'I'm sure Her Majesty will forgive us this once,' Athos pushed past D'Artagnan and Porthos who had stopped.

'I agree,' Tréville commented as he urged the other two forward.

Athos suddenly stopped and the reason became clear.

'Such a shame about Aramis,' Milady drawled and yet there was a hint of sincerity in her voice.

'Rochefort told you?' D'Artagnan growled.

'Actually, the King,' she said importantly.

'It seems that Rochefort may have been hasty in declaring Aramis' demise,' Tréville said coldly.

'He's alive?' Milady looked stunned and yet there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes which surprised the men.

'If you move, we'll find out soon enough,' Porthos growled as he strode towards her and Milady surprisingly jumped out of his way with no comment.

The men passed her to descend the staircase but Athos stood facing his wife.

'You almost sound as if you care,' he stated while staring at her coldly.

'Aramis dead would not be a good thing,' she stared right back at him.

'Why would that be bad for you?' his expression was icily cold.

'Rochefort is a menace,' she stated as she searched her husband's face for any type of reaction. 'He fears you. All of you. Should one of you be gone then that would strengthen his position.'

'You mean that he does not favour you, so if we were to stop his rise and favour with King Louis...that would be better for you,' Athos' expression had hardened slightly as he knew his wife only ever thought about herself.

'That is always a bonus,' she admitted. 'But Aramis' death would destroy you. However much I tell myself I want you gone, I'm not so sure that is what I want anymore.'

Athos just stared coldly back.

'Nothing to say, Athos?' she sneered. 'You never were very good at conversation.'

'I generally speak when I have something to say,' he stated dryly as he turned and descended the staircase after the others, leaving Milady stood frustrated at the top of the stairs.

'Hurry up!' Porthos sounded agitated as he held Roger ready for Athos as the swordsman approached the horses.

'You could have left without me,' Athos raised an eyebrow.

'Next time I will,' Porthos kicked Flip into action causing the others to hurry their own steads along. All of them eager to see Aramis again.

* * *

Aramis sighed as his trembling hands couldn't hold the mug of broth Constance held firmly in hers.

'I can't feed myself,' he mumbled shaking his head slightly looking rather despondent.

'At least you're being fed,' Constance smiled warmly as she managed to lift the mug to his mouth for him to drink. 'Would you be this mopey if the others were here?' she asked cocking her head to the side.

'Yes,' he admitted quietly while failing to stop his smile when he thought of the many times his brothers had nursed him and he them.

'Come on,' she coaxed. 'A bit of bread,' she said as she dipped the bread in the broth and got him to eat a few pieces. He knew his stomach wouldn't take much solid food but he should be ok with a few pieces of bread.

'I'm so tired,' he huffed. He always hated being ill or injured. He always felt so useless.

'You need rest,' Constance said quietly as she realised he couldn't eat anymore. He was steadily increasing his broth intake and with the bread she was satisfied that he had eaten enough.

The door opened and Gabriel and Vasselin came in.

'You're awake,' Gabriel said enthusiastically and rather too loudly making Aramis wince. 'Sorry,' the musketeer apologised in a much quieter voice.

'You know how to put us through the wringer, don't you?' Vasselin quipped making Aramis smirk. Neither man seemed at all surprised to see Constance in the room.

'You got the Duke?' Aramis asked.

'Yep,' Gabriel sat in the chair on Aramis' left side. 'Smarmy bugger, isn't he?'

'I think they all got a punch in,' Vasselin smiled. Aramis didn't need to be told who 'they' were as he returned the smile. His brothers would no doubt have caused the Duke some pain but Tréville would have kept them in check.

'Wish I'd been there,' he said with mischief in his eyes. 'If only to see his shock that I was alive.' Aramis then gave a rather large yawn making the two musketeers smile.

'Rest,' Gabriel gave Aramis' shoulder the lightest of squeezes.

'Yeah,' Vasselin nodded. 'You'll be partying when the others get back,' he winked. Both musketeers left the room and Constance helped Aramis to lie down again.

'Do you need a pain draught?' she asked as she saw him wince.

'No. Not for now,' he huffed as his eyes closed and sleep took him again.

* * *

King Louis was in his chambers playing chess with Rochefort, who had to be careful, as the King had left his queen wide open and Rochefort could easily make check-mate in two moves if he chose to. There was a knock at the door.

'Come in,' Louis called in a bored voice. He really wasn't up to anything remotely taxing this evening.

Queen Anne entered smiling at her husband. In truth, it wasn't the sight of her husband that caused her to smile. She had been struggling to hide her joy at Aramis' recovery all day.

'Anne,' he called as she moved to take an empty chair next to him. 'Are you feeling better?' he enquired.

'Much, thank you,' she smiled back. 'I have also had some news from Constance about Aramis.'

'Really? What's happened?' Louis looked eager to hear the information which surprised Anne slightly. She supposed even he would be affected by the devastation of the musketeers when they had heard the Aramis had most likely died. Neither of them noticed Rochefort's posture tense as he sat in his chair. The fact that Queen looked happy suggested only one thing. Aramis had beaten the odds.

'Constance sent me a message that Aramis' fever broke last night,' Anne was doing her best to not seem so happy but it was rather difficult. 'I would have told you sooner had I not had trouble sleeping.'

'Oh,' Louis looked happy and then worried. 'We told them Aramis had likely died,' he said looking guiltily at Rochefort.

'We gave them the facts as we knew them,' Rochefort managed to say as he inwardly cursed Aramis. How could he have survived? He was practically dead! That musketeer must have more lives than a cat!

'It's alright,' Anne reassured them, taking Rochefort's expression for guilt over misleading the musketeers. 'I told them what Constance had told me and I said I would update you straight away.'

'I suppose they're on their way to see him now?' Rochefort enquired having managed to get a hold on his anger.

'Yes,' Anne smiled.

'Well, maybe we need some brandy to celebrate,' Louis announced as he moved to the door and ordered a servant away.

'Forgive me, sire,' Rochefort stood. 'I think it would be best if I retire. I'm not feeling quite myself.'

'Oh. That is a shame,' Louis said looking rather mystified.

Rochefort bowed and left as he scurried back to his office. He had some serious clearing up to do.

* * *

Constance sat in her chair by Aramis' bedside. She was tired and yet she was happy. He was sleeping soundly and was eating as well as could be expected. His skin no longer looked as grey as it had just a few hours ago. Although he still had a long recovery ahead of him, Constance was no longer plagued with worry. She was sure he was through the worst of it now.

She heard the arrival of horses in the courtyard and wondered whether she would finally see the men Aramis called his brothers. She waited but she heard no-one ascend the infirmary steps. She moved over to the window and saw many musketeers in the courtyard but none were the men she was expecting.

She realised after a few moments that the men she was looking for had probably gone to the palace with the Duke and that was why they weren't back yet.

She turned and saw Aramis sleeping peacefully. Maybe it was best the others weren't here yet as they would disturb his rest.

About half an hour later she heard more horses but far fewer than before. The pounding footsteps on the stairs told her who was coming. The door swung open loudly as Porthos finally came to a stop half-way across the room with his eyes fixed on one place in the infirmary. Or to be more specific, one person. D'Artagnan quickly followed and Athos brought up the rear. All three of the panting as they stared at the only occupied bed.

Constance placed her hands on her hips and cleared her throat gaining their attention.

'Did you have to come in here so nosily,' she looked at them sternly. 'You sounded like a herd of elephants!' she glanced over at Aramis who was miraculously still asleep.

'How do you know what a herd of elephants sounds like?' D'Artagnan asked with a cheeky grin as he approached her.

'Well...' she floundered. 'They're big and heavy aren't they? They would make a lot of noise,' she said defensively.

'Assuming they could climb stairs,' Athos responded drolly with a quirk of an eyebrow causing Porthos to laugh. Constance shot him a scowl and Porthos stopped laughing but he couldn't stop grinning as he walked over to Aramis who still oblivious to his visitors.

At that point D'Artagnan enveloped Constance in a hug that she hadn't realised she needed. She felt herself finally relax in his arms as she buried her head in the crook of his neck.

'Thank you for looking after him,' he whispered as Constance couldn't help the relief she felt. The tears fell before she knew it but she wasn't ashamed. She didn't care that Athos and Porthos could see as well. Whether she liked it or not, she was part of this family.

She sobbed into D'Artagnan's shoulder for a few minutes as he rubbed her back soothingly, telling her how grateful they were for her help. Athos and Porthos turned their attention to Aramis to give them some privacy. Porthos held Aramis' left hand while Athos had his right. Aramis continued to sleep but the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest reassured them that he was ok.

Tréville came in a few minutes later and did not look at all surprised at the scene before him. He moved over to the end of Aramis' bed and watched the marksman sleeping.

Constance moved away from D'Artagnan and wiped her eyes and tried to compose herself while D'Artagnan took another chair and placed it next to Athos. His hand moved to Aramis' knee to be in contact with his brother.

Tréville moved over to Constance and gave her hug. 'Thank you for looking after him so well,' he said quietly. His eyes were slightly teary as they drew apart. 'I assume there is absolutely no point in me telling you three to alternate watching him and rest yourselves?'

The smirks said it all.

'You know where to find me,' Tréville said as he nodded and left.

Once Tréville had left Athos quietly moved over to Constance and took her hand in his before pulling her into a surprising hug.

'Thank you,' he said quietly as he held her tightly. 'I bet he's been a terrible patient,' he pulled back as Constance laughed.

'He always is,' Porthos quipped as Constance found herself on her fourth hug. 'You don't take any nonsense though.'

She pulled back and looked at all four of them. 'He scared me last night. I thought he wasn't going to make it. I don't know what I'd have done if he had died.'

'He likes a bit of drama,' Athos said with a smirk. 'Don't you?' he nodded towards Aramis.

'No fun otherwise,' came the surprise response from the bed.

'How long have you been awake?' Porthos dashed back to his chair as Constance moved closer.

'Not very,' Aramis said sleepily. 'You're back then.'

'Obviously,' D'Artagnan quipped with a smile as Aramis managed to send a small glare down to the younger man.

'I'm sure you're all hungry so I'll see if the kitchen has anything,' Constance said as she rolled her sleeves up. Before anyone could protest Gabriel entered carrying a large pot of stew while Vasselin carried a plate piled with bread and cheese.

'Captain said you'd be hungry,' Vasselin smiled.

The musketeers looked back at Aramis but it seemed his waking had only been temporary as his eyes were closed again and his breathing was even once more.

D'Artagnan moved to dish out the stew but Constance waved it away saying that she had already eaten.

After the musketeers had eaten they realised that they had been far hungrier than they thought. None of them had eaten much since leaving Aramis.

Dr. Lemay arrived after they had finished their meal and he moved straight towards his patient.

'I'm sorry I was called away to deal with a sickness at the palace,' he looked nervous as if he expected them to shout at him for being called away.

'We understand,' Athos said quietly as he moved so Lemay could get better access to Aramis.

Aramis remained asleep while Lemay checked the cuts which were red but showing no sign of infection returning.

'Is he eating?' Lemasy asked Constance who was hovering nearby.

'He's had a fair bit of broth and managed some bread earlier,' she said cautiously.

'Well that is good,' Lemay smiled.

The door opened again as Dr. Jardin entered and he was rather surprised at the gathering around Aramis' bed.

'You must be Dr. Jardin,' Athos moved across to shake the perplexed man's hand. 'Thank you for checking up on him.'

'Yes,' he said as he still looked staggered at the amount of people in the room. 'I just came to check how Aramis was progressing.'

'Constance tells me he has been eating and so far it doesn't look as though the infection is returning,' Lemay smiled.

'Well that is good news,' Jardin smiled warmly. 'Gave us quite a fright he did.'

'You don't have any pain draughts do you?' Lemay enquired as he searched his own bag.

'Yes, I brought some,' Jardin withdrew two vials from his bag.

'Thank you,' Lemay nodded.

A groan came from the bed as everyone turned to Aramis who was trying to push himself up. Porthos quickly moved over and lifted Aramis under the armpits as D'Artagnan fluffed the pillows against the headrest and Porthos propped Aramis up against the pillows.

Aramis blinked a couple of times as he registered who was in the room.

'I knew I was popular,' he smirked drowsily and yawned.

'Are you in pain?' Dr. Lemay asked.

'It's bearable,' Aramis replied quietly.

'That means yes,' Athos said with a tired sigh glaring at his friend.

'I'll leave it on the side,' Dr. Lemay left the vials on the table by Aramis' bed. 'I must be off but I'll be back in the morning.'

'Me too,' Jardin chorused. 'I'm very glad to see you recovering Aramis. I was perhaps a little too hasty in believing that your time on this earth may have been over. I'm sorry for doubting you.'

'No need to apologise,' Aramis gave a small smile.

'Yeah. He's weird,' Porthos stated matter-of-factly causing a ripple of laughter around the room.

'I'll see you tomorrow,' Lemay said as he walked across to the door.

'I wish you all the best,' Jardin smiled as both men left the infirmary.

There was silence for a moment before it was punctuated with the sound of a yawn from Constance. She was sat on one of the other beds and her own eyes were starting to close.

'Constance,' Athos called. 'Would you like to rest in one of our rooms? We can have the sheets changed if you want to sleep,' he gave a rare warm smile.

Constance knew she was fighting a losing battle as she was shattered and she knew her eyes were closing.

'If nobody has any objections...could I maybe sleep here?' her voice was hesitant as if she feared they would say no.

'Of course you can,' Porthos smiled.

'If you're sure you won't be uncomfortable?' Athos said making it clear he had no problem.

'Get some sleep Constance. We will try not to wake you,' D'Artagnan settled the matter with a smile.

'You deserve it for being my guardian angel,' Aramis smiled with a yawn.

Constance quickly removed her boots and snuggled under the sheets in the bed she had used the night before. In minutes she was fast asleep.

'What happened with the Duke?' Aramis asked quietly as he winced slightly careful not to disturb Constance.

'I left-hooked him, Athos right-hooked him and D'Artagnan kicked him,' Porthos reeled off as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

'I'm sorry I missed it,' Aramis grinned.

'Tréville told me I couldn't punch him,' D'Artagnan had a mischievous look in his eye.

'But he didn't say you couldn't kick him,' Aramis said after a moment's pause.

'Exactly,' Athos drawled. 'That reminds me,' Athos reached around his neck and undid the ribbon there before revealing Aramis' beloved crucifix from under his leathers and scarf. 'I believe this is yours.'

'You...you...'

Athos stood and tied the crucifix around his brother's neck as Aramis held it in the palm of his hand. Tears were welling up in Aramis' eyes as he was reunited with his precious gift from Anne.

'I thought I'd never see it again,' he sniffed as Athos placed an arm around his shoulders.

'That's how I knew for certain that the Duke was involved,' Athos said quietly. 'He was wearing it when we left his manor to find you. I resolved that I would get it back for you,' Athos pressed a quick kiss into Aramis hair and moved so Porthos could hug his brother. D'Artagnan followed soon after as none of them commented on the tears rolling down Aramis' cheeks.

'We even managed to pray for yer,' Porthos grinned. 'Well Athos did.'

'I may have said the words but they were for all of us,' Athos stated as only he could.

'It seems He was listening,' D'Artagnan squeezed Aramis' knee affectionately.

'Thank you,' Aramis managed to say after he had pulled himself together. 'Where's the Duke now?'

'He's in the Bastille and the King will see him tomorrow, not that he has much of a defence,' Athos said quietly.

'Hopefully, he will expose Rochefort as the traitor,' D'Artagnan added.

'You mean the King didn't see him tonight?' Aramis asked looking slightly perplexed.

'No,' Porthos confirmed.

'Let's hope Rochefort doesn't get to him,' Aramis said looking dejected. They all knew Rochefort would do anything to stop the Duke revealing his true nature.

* * *

Rochefort was livid with himself. He should have finished Aramis while he had the chance! With Aramis recovering and the Duke most likely to 'out' him as the traitor he was in a mess. What would his beloved Anne think if she knew the truth? He had to take drastic action. NOW.

Rochefort gathered the items he would need and dressed himself in clothes less attributable to a man close to the King. He didn't want to be recognised if he could avoid it.

He found out from the red guards that had escorted the Duke to the Bastille exactly where the Duke was being held inside the prison. Once the men had gone he realised that the particular area of the Bastille was a place he knew rather well and would certainly be advantageous to his plan.

He waited until well into the night as he left the palace and made his way towards the prison. The Bastille wasn't too far away from the Louvre and by travelling on foot he would be far less noticeable than if he had ridden.

He moved past the main entrance which was guarded by two men who already looked as though they would pass out before the night was through and quickly made his way to the South wall, where he found the concealed entrance which would take him into the area of the prison where the Duke was being held.

He moved unobserved through the door and found himself in a very dimly lit hallway. There were torches but only a couple. It took a moment for Rochefort to regain his bearings as he began to look for the Duke of Épernon's cell.

He found the cell that his guards had told him contained the Duke and listened at the door. He looked through the window and could see the Duke asleep in his bed. The Bastille was rather more comfortable than the Châtelet as it tended to be reserved for those used to finer conditions.

Rochefort removed his lock picks and in seconds the lock clicked open and woke the Duke in the process.

'Who are you? What do you want?' the Duke demanded and then relaxed as Rochefort lowered his hood.

'This is a fine mess we're both in,' Rochefort said as he glared at the Duke.


	42. Chapter 42

**Hello. Sorry this update is slightly late but I did want to get it out on Sunday. Just.**

 **Due to the fact that I just finished it before I posted there may be a few mistakes so if you spot anything major please let me know. :)**

 **I hope you enjoy it and I will try to get the next chapter out next Sunday. :)**

* * *

Chapter Forty-Two

'This is a fine mess we're both in,' Rochefort glared at the Duke. 'I told you to run!'

'I didn't realise there were going to be so many musketeers!' the Duke shouted forcibly back.

'When I told you to run you should have!' Rochefort responded menacingly closing the gap between the men and forcing the Duke to stumble backwards. 'I told you they were coming.'

'I didn't know that they had rescued Aramis,' the Duke growled. 'I trusted that Renard had it in hand!'

'You were careless,' Rochefort's voice was low and menacing. 'You tried to play with Aramis when you should have disposed of him. How the **hell** did his friends find him?!'

'That I don't know,' the Duke said pompously. 'I wanted Aramis to suffer and so did Renard. We didn't expect them to arrive so soon.'

'You're trying to blame me?!' Rochefort spat.

'We were under the impression that we had more time,' the Duke glared back. 'Anyway, I doubt he will survive his injuries although his mind wasn't quite as broken as I'd hoped.'

'Aramis lives and it looks as though he will recover,' Rochefort watched as the Duke turned towards him looking rather shocked.

'But...his injuries?' he stammered.

'I tried to finish him myself but I couldn't be caught and had to leave him. The doctor hadn't expected him to survive the night but it appears that Aramis has an infinite number of lives,' Rochefort turned away looking annoyed.

'He lives!' the Duke roared. 'HE HAS TO DIE!'

'NOW HE IS SURROUNDED BY HIS FRIENDS!' Rochefort bellowed back. 'NO-ONE WILL BE ABLE TO GET NEAR HIM!'

'He can testify,' the Duke was hit with the realisation like a stunning blow. He may have not been able to deny that Aramis was found on his lands but he could have denied all knowledge of Renard with the scarred man unable to contradict him. With Aramis alive would the King believe a musketeer over a Duke?

'He is still too unwell,' Rochefort growled. 'That gives us time.'

'I can bring down the Musketeers,' the Duke stated as he stood. 'They covered up an attempt by Marie de Medici to take power in the place of her grandson. The child Aramis threw into the river. His Majesty won't be happy about that,' he said triumphantly.'

'And you think you can do a deal that will spare your wretched life?' Rochefort spat back.

'Careful Rochefort, you forget that I know who the traitor in court is,' the Duke looked triumphant at his supposed power over the Comte. The smile faded as Rochefort stood close but the Duke refused to give up his ground. He could betray Rochefort easily and the Comte knew it.

'Do you think you will come out on top when you challenge me?' Rochefort asked with a strange politeness that the Duke wasn't expecting.

'We're in this together Rochefort,' the Duke stated confidently. 'I go down...you go down.'

'Really?' Rochefort sneered.

'You're plan didn't work out but it was **your** idea to kidnap the Queen,' the Duke basked in the glory of his words as Rochefort swallowed thickly. 'I wonder how she would feel towards you when she finds out the truth.'

Rochefort watched the smirking Duke and felt anger rise within him. In a flash the smile on the Duke's face fell as Rochefort plunged the knife he had hidden up his sleeve into the Duke's chest vertically and then swiftly turned it horizontally. The turning of the knife expertly severed both lungs making the Duke gasp, rather quietly, for the air that he could no longer breath. Rochefort had learnt this method of execution under Vargas. It was quick and caused the victim to suffocate as the lungs could no longer expand. It was also a silent execution that meant no alarm could be raised. Not that noise was really a problem as no-one had come to investigate the shouting earlier. The guards were most likely drunk or asleep.

Rochefort guided the stricken Duke to the bed and laid him flat. 'It won't be long now,' he said to the gasping Duke whose fear at his imminent death was clear. The Duke continued to gasp but fell silent within a minute and finally his heart stopped.

Rochefort lay the man's hands over his chest and closed the Duke's eyes. One problem sorted.

'I couldn't take the risk of your betrayal,' Rochefort said quietly to the corpse. 'I will find my own way to deal with those meddlesome musketeers.' Rochefort took once last glance and left the cell. He moved back to the passageway, only having to hide himself once because of the guards, and left the Bastille unobserved.

* * *

Morning broke and the sun made its way through the windows of the infirmary. Aramis lay for a moment with his eyes closed trying to remember what had happened the night before. His hand brushed the crucifix on his chest as his memory jolted back to him. His brothers were back.

He opened his eyes slowly and a smile passed over his face as he saw the sight before him. D'Artagnan was asleep with his head on the bed with his hand still touching Aramis' knee. Athos was beside him was in a similar position with his hand on Aramis' right forearm. Aramis turned to see Porthos asleep on his own arms snoring quietly with his hand on Aramis' chest. Aramis was trapped and he knew it. All three were sleeping soundly and the last thing Aramis wanted to do was wake them up. He also felt the warmth that his brothers brought him when they were close. Although asleep, they would stop anyone from hurting him, providing the fact they could move when they woke as their backs would surely be sore. Aramis gave a small chuckle which meant that all three of them gripped him more tightly in their sleep. He would have to tease them about this but only when he was recovered.

The door to the infirmary opened and Constance came in carrying a pot. She saw Aramis and immediately smiled as she placed the pot down on one of the tables. The other three musketeers stirred slightly but did not wake.

'I think you're a bit trapped,' Constance whispered as she came over.

'How kind of you to notice,' Aramis managed a rather Athos-like drawl making Constance giggle slightly.

She placed a hand on his forehead to check his temperature, 'Feeling better?' she asked smiling.

'Much,' he replied.

'Good,' she gave him a kiss on the cheek. 'I'll see if they wake up when they smell the broth.'

A throat cleared quietly behind them as D'Artagnan watched them with a rather amused look. 'How am I supposed to respond to this?' he asked rather airily.

'By making yourself useful. Go and get the rest of the breakfast from the kitchen,' Constance replied rather bossily leading D'Artagnan to look at Aramis who just raised his eyebrows in amusement.

'Alright,' he huffed as he moved across and gave her kiss on the cheek making her blush slightly as he left the room.

A groan sounded as Porthos raised his head and cricked his back before finally looking at Aramis and finding that he was awake. He smiled broadly as Aramis stared back with a smile.

'You always wake up with the smell of food,' came the slightly muffled voice of Athos who still had his head pushed into the bed.

'I like eatin'. Where's D'Artagnan?'

'Getting more food,' Constance chorused lightly. The musketeers exchanged glances but said nothing as Athos finally lifted his head with a grimace.

D'Artagnan was soon back and they started eat. Constance didn't try and feed Aramis this time as he resolutely ate by himself. Constance did observe both Athos and Porthos watching the marksman out of the corner of their eyes, ready to help if necessary.

They ate quietly while the others filled Aramis in on the small details from the Duke's capture. Most of them making Aramis smile and wishing he'd been there himself. Aramis only hoped that the Duke would be served the justice he deserved.

* * *

Tréville was sat in his office as he sat holding his head in his hands with his elbows resting on his desk. He hadn't slept and was worried about the accusations the Duke may throw at the Musketeers. Louis wasn't particularly enamoured with his regiment right now and Rochefort would use everything he could against them.

Aramis wouldn't be able to testify for a while and Louis would want Aramis' version of events. The truth was going to come out and above all Tréville knew he had to protect his men, even if it meant falling on his own sword.

The links between the Queen's capture and Aramis all depended on the scarred man, Renard. The man had been at both scenes and while the Duke could not deny that Renard was on his lands he could deny that he knew him. Aramis would testify that the Duke had been present when he was tortured and Louis would hopefully believe him. The more serious charge of kidnapping the Queen was only linked with the dead man and the musketeers' word that Renard had been there.

But Rochefort was able to testify that Renard had been at the Queen's kidnapping and could help in linking the two events.

Tréville moved across to the door and searched the courtyard. 'Gabriel, Vasselin,' he called as the weary musketeers made their way up to his office.

'Captain,' Vasselin said as they took they place in front of Tréville's desk.

'Here are the coordinates that Athos gave me for where Aramis was kept,' Tréville said calmly. He refrained from saying tortured. 'I need you to take a cart and bring back the body of the scarred man Renard.'

'Where is the body?' Gabriel asked looking determined.

'Athos told me the body is in the cellar,' Tréville replied. 'To link Aramis' capture and the Queen's capture we need the common factor.'

'I remember him,' Gabriel's jaw had tightened as he remembered the man.

'I know this is not a pleasant task but even Rochefort will be able to confirm Renard as being the man who captured the Queen. I'm hoping that by linking the Duke and Renard we can get justice,' Tréville looked solemn and the musketeers knew their captain would not ask this unless it was necessary.

'Yes, Captain,' Vasselin nodded as did Gabriel.

'Make sure you have everything you need,' Tréville waved a hand to dismiss them as Tréville pondered his next move. A move that would not be popular, he was sure of that.

* * *

'Right,' Porthos had finally finished munching. 'Let's get it set up,' he said to D'Artagnan and Athos who left the infirmary while Aramis gave Porthos a quizzical look.

'What?' Aramis looked at Porthos who just grinned. Aramis rolled his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair and grimaced at the feel.

Constance entered and gave Porthos a knowing look and Aramis huffed. 'What's going on?'

'I'm off to the palace to see Her Majesty,' Constance said lightly and this time it was Aramis and Constance exchanging knowing looks. 'And you...are getting a bath,' she said as she took a lock of his limp hair her in her fingers.

'Yes, I know I stink,' Aramis muttered looking rather downcast.

'Cheer up,' she smiled. 'I'd rather have you alive and smelly than dead and smelly.'

'Well, soon he won't be smelly,' Porthos chimed.

'Alright!' Aramis was smiling now.

'Bye,' Constance smiled as she left as Aramis pouted slightly.

'You know we're only messin'? Porthos looked slightly worried as he sat on the bed. Aramis did his best not to look at his friend but Porthos could see the amusement. They often teased each other about smelling bad when they'd been injured or ill. It meant that they thought the patient was recovering well enough for the jibes. Aramis secretly appreciated it.

The door opened and Tréville stalked in.

'Where are the others?' he asked as Porthos and Aramis saw the clear agitation on their captain's face.

'Gettin' a bath tub,' Porthos replied.

'I stink,' Aramis added causing Porthos to smile and Tréville's stern demeanour to fall into a smile.

Just then they heard clanging and some swearing indicating that the bath tub had arrived. Tréville opened to the door to see a rather irritated Athos and D'Artagnan who swiftly moved the tub near to the fire.

'I need to speak to you all,' Tréville said with authority. This was serious and the musketeers knew it.

'This is about the Duke, isn't it?' D'Artagnan asked.

'Yes. He intends to reveal what happened when Marie de Medici tried to take power,' Tréville sighed. 'He intends to destroy us.'

'We lied to the King,' Athos stated. 'Louis won't take that well.'

'Nor will he take it well that his nephew died after someone threw him into a river,' Tréville looked directly at Aramis who looked rather resigned.

'But he didn't!' Porthos roared and stood. Aramis placed a hand on his friends arm to calm him.

'We can't tell the truth that that child is alive,' Aramis said quietly. 'The Duke will make it clear that he believes I killed the child on purpose rather than by accident.'

'Making it murder,' Athos growled.

'The Cardinal would have killed the child anyway!' D'Artagnan exclaimed looking worriedly at Aramis.

'The Cardinal is no longer here to answer for his actions,' Tréville said quietly.

'No,' Athos stood. 'You can't.'

'I must Athos and you understand that,' Tréville said solemnly. 'I will take full responsibility for everything. You were acting on **my** orders.'

'No,' Aramis said resolutely. 'You can't take the blame for this. I was the one who tried to sneak Agnes and Henry out. **I** made that decision.'

'Stubborn fool,' Tréville sighed. He hated what he was about to do. 'If you hold me in the respect that you have always said you have then you will allow me to take the fall.'

'No,' Aramis stared back as the others nodded. They wouldn't let Tréville take the fall for their actions.

'Aramis,' Tréville growled. 'Do you want to die for this? Do you want them,' he indicated the others, 'to die for this? This regiment needs the four of you. I am on my way out anyway but the four of you would leave this regiment vulnerable without you? Is that what you want?!'

The musketeers shared hopeless glances. Though the regiment wouldn't be same without Tréville they were also aware of how respected they were. Athos, Porthos and Aramis were well known to be an inspiration among the men and D'Artagnan was also starting to be widely respected due to his affiliation with the other three.

'That is a low blow,' Athos stood stock still and Tréville felt the force of the swordsman's glare.

'Better me...than all of you,' Tréville's voice cracked slightly. 'This is an order and I expect you to respect it. I ordered you to hide the boy and the truth of the tussle was that the boy perished in the river but it was an accident. The four of you are needed here and my time is coming to an end.'

'But-,' Porthos started.

'That is my final word on the matter,' Tréville stalked over to the door and walked through it without a backward glance leaving the Inseparables feeling stunned and rather guilty.

* * *

Once outside Tréville moved into the courtyard and took some deep breaths. He hated what he had done to the Inseparables but he also knew that the regiment would fall apart without all of them. He had spent much of his time keeping those four out of prison for stupid duels and the like. He had always worried when he sent them off on missions and felt relieved when they had returned. It was the same for all of the men but more so for those three, now four, in particular. They were his favourites and he knew it.

A messenger arrived and handed him a letter. He was to report to the King at once. Tréville wondered if the Duke had blabbed already but surely the Duke hadn't seen the King yet.

'Jacques,' he called. 'Saddle my horse please,' Jacques nodded and did as he was bid. Tréville wondered whether he would return to the garrison at all.

* * *

Rochefort had received the message from King Louis telling him that the meeting was urgent. He smiled to himself as he realised that the Duke must have been found dead in his cell this morning. He took his time and made the King wait. Surely Tréville would have been summoned as well.

Rochefort slowly made his way to the King's chambers as he put the final pieces of what he would say clearly in his mind. He knocked and entered when he heard Louis' snappy voice.

'Rochefort!' Louis declared. 'This is a disaster!'

'Louis, please calm down,' Anne's voice was stern yet soft. Something Rochefort rather loved about her.

'What has happened?' Rochefort forced a concerned voice as Louis thrust a letter into his hands. 'The Duke has been murdered in the Bastille!' Rochefort did his best to look shocked by the news. He was getting good at that now.

'Somebody killed him,' Louis flounced.

'Somebody was afraid of what he may have said,' Rochefort responded. 'It seems that the Duke may have had a few secrets to reveal.'

A knock at the door distracted everybody as Louis called, 'Enter,' and Tréville strode in and bowed. Before Tréville could ask what was going on the King snatched the letter from Rochefort and thrust the letter into Tréville's hands and the former captain quickly read it.

His first reaction was relief as the musketeers were safe. Well, at least from the Duke. His second thought was shock and his third was realisation that Rochefort had disposed of the only man who could expose him as a traitor.

'When did this happen?' Tréville schooled his features.

'I received the news this morning,' Louis flounced as he sat on his bed. 'I should have seen him last night.'

'No-one could have foreseen this, Majesty,' Rochefort said silkily.

'Rochefort is right,' Anne agreed making Rochefort smile internally. 'I believe that the Duke was involved, for whatever reason, with the attack on myself and Captain Tréville. I also trust that Athos did not lie when he said that he thought the Duke responsible for Aramis' capture and hopefully Aramis will be able to confirm that.'

'Do you believe the Duke to be guilty?' Louis asked Tréville.

'He confessed to me, Majesty,' Tréville replied daring to hope that this could all be forgotten. 'It would have been better if he had confessed to you.'

'Hmmf,' Louis huffed as he lay down.

'I wonder...,' Rochefort started his eyes gleaming wickedly.

'What?' Louis snapped.

'It's just that...there are...those who would love to see the Duke dead,' Rochefort glanced at Tréville who tensed.

'Who do you mean?' Anne asked wide-eyed.

'Certain musketeers...'

* * *

 **A/N: I'm not sure how many chapters are left in this but we are getting near to the end. I've added another small storyline (very small really) and if something doesn't make sense or fit please let me know. (I.e. gaping holes that need to be filled.)**

 **Somehow, I suspect that none of you were surprised by the Duke's fate. :)**


	43. Chapter 43

**Hello. Right, currently trying to wrap loose ends. After I left the last chapter on a bit of a cliffhanger I hope this doesn't fall flat.**

 **Just a small warning of a slightly grisly scene in the last paragraph involving a dead body.**

 **Enjoy. :)**

* * *

Chapter Forty-Three

'That is a preposterous accusation!' Tréville retorted without thinking making Rochefort smirk as his accusation hit the mark.

'It seems to me that they would have the greatest motive in wanting the Duke dead,' Rochefort sneered. 'After all Aramis nearly died. Surely a good reason to want the man dead.'

Tréville was rapidly trying to think while Rochefort stared back in victory. Tréville suspected Rochefort was to blame as Renard had told Aramis and the musketeers that Rochefort was the traitor. Unfortunately, Louis would not take that as proof.

'Now, now Rochefort,' Louis said as looked between Rochefort and Tréville. 'That is quite the accusation without proof.' Tréville felt himself relax slightly but he was on guard should Rochefort try anything else. 'Although, he does have a point,' Louis looked to Tréville who was doing his best not to show how much he was seething inside.

'Perhaps...' the Queen's voice stirred the men. 'However, I do not see it.' Rochefort looked worriedly towards the Queen. How dare she intervene in his last chance to get rid of the musketeers?

'Go on,' Louis prodded.

'It seems to me that Rochefort is indicating that heightened emotions would have been the cause for the musketeers to murder the Duke?' she looked quizzically at Rochefort who was trying to keep his emotions in check.

'Yes,' Rochefort replied tersely.

'Then, it seems to me very unlikely for them to act in this manner,' Queen Anne chose her words carefully as she claimed the attention of the men in the room. 'I know that Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan are honourable men and they have always served the crown to the best of their ability. Of course, within their group Aramis is as important as the others. I saw how distressed they were when they thought Aramis had died. Even then I did not feel anger but more grief and sorrow emitting from them. It is true that grief can make any of us react in uncharacteristic ways and I'm sure Tréville would agree that sometimes our emotions can get the better of us.'

'Indeed, Majesty,' Tréville agreed hoping that the Queen's words would filter into Louis' short attention span. 'That is why the garrison works so well and men are always stationed at the gates to alert us if any musketeer appears to be acting out of character.'

'As I thought, you and your men are well prepared for these occasions Tréville,' Anne smiled as Tréville nodded his appreciation of her statement. 'Therefore, it seems unlikely that the musketeers would be able to do such a thing. Returning to their motives I believe there are none.'

'Your Majesty, Aramis was severely tortured and nearly died. Surely that is motive enough,' Rochefort blurted out as he could see Louis appearing to accept his wife's reasoning while Anne managed not to flinch at Rochefort's blunt description.

'He makes a good point,' Louis agreed but did not seem convinced.

'We all know how unwell Aramis was and that he has been lucky to escape with his life,' Anne continued but her voice held a steely note. A note reserved for making herself heard. 'Had he died it would have been far more believable for our noble musketeers to have committed this act but Aramis lives. I observed their relief at learning of Aramis' recovery and it told me that he was more important than any anger they may have felt. I would suggest that they have barely left his side since they returned.'

'You are quite correct, Majesty,' Tréville decided to take a risk to emphasise his men's innocence. 'They have not left Aramis side in the infirmary.'

'Any witnesses?' Rochefort sneered.

'I do not need witnesses to know that they did not do this,' Tréville's voice held a deep growl that told everyone in the room that meant business. 'I know these men. They had ample opportunity to kill the Duke when we went to arrest him. The fight was chaotic and the Duke resisted capture. Porthos alone held a pistol at the fleeing Duke and could easily have shot him the chaos. They kept their composure and emotions in check which is why they are musketeers.' Tréville decided that telling the King about the hits the musketeers got in to appease their emotions wasn't relevant as the Duke couldn't mention it after all.

'That is a good point, Rochefort,' Louis conceded. 'They are my best men and they returned the Duke here for trial. We were likely to find him guilty and he would have been executed anyway. Why bother with murder?'

'Your Majesty,' Tréville ventured. 'The Duke, like Renard, mentioned a traitor in your court. He wouldn't tell me who it was,' Tréville flashed a glare at Rochefort who remained unmoved, 'but I believe it is likely that the traitor ended his life before he could speak.'

'Not the traitor again,' Louis huffed.

'It does seem more likely than the musketeers,' Anne said quietly. 'Did the Duke give any indication who it might be?' she asked Tréville.

'I regret not, Your Majesty,' Tréville was quietly seething but an accusation against Rochefort could be turned back on him and the musketeers. This was not the time.

'We still can't be sure that the Duke was involved,' Rochefort said quietly. 'Only Aramis can testify that the Duke was present when he was tortured. He may not have been thinking clearly.'

'The link is the scarred man Renard,' Tréville addressed Rochefort. 'Athos tells me that it was definitely the same man that attacked Her Majesty's carriage and tortured Aramis. Aramis was found on the Duke's land and Athos reliably informs me that the Duke held Aramis' crucifix.' Anne gave a small gasp at Tréville's last words but thankfully no-one noticed. Aramis had kept her present to him but she hadn't seen it when she had nursed him. She wondered if he would ever get it back.

'It rather seems that the Duke was guilty, Rochefort,' Louis conceded. 'I see no reason why Aramis would lie and I don't believe that the musketeers had anything to do with the Duke's death.'

'Are you certain that Renard was the same man in both cases?' Rochefort tried one last time.

'Athos assures me that it was the same man,' Tréville responded calmly. 'However, I had originally planned in asking the Duke if he recognised the man. Showing him Renard's corpse. I'm sure that between us we would have been able to deduce whether the Duke had seen the man before.'

'And how was he meant to see the man?' Rochefort asked looking confused.

'I have sent for the body to be recovered and brought here,' Tréville said without a hint of disgust. 'I was hoping that you would help me confirm that the man was at the shack.' Tréville watched as Rochefort looked slightly ill.

'I'm afraid that Athos kept me well out of sight so I would've been unable to do so,' Rochefort replied still looking a bit sick.

'Is the body still being transported?' Louis asked.

'Yes, Sire,' Tréville returned his attention to the King. 'I sent the men this morning.'

'I can do it,' came Anne's quiet voice. The men looked quizzically at her. 'I want to see the body.'

'Your Majesty, I do not recommended it,' Tréville said hurriedly. 'The body will not be in a good condition.'

'I need to see the man that held us hostage, Captain,' Anne had a steely look of determination about her. 'Tell me when the body arrives,' and she swept from the room leaving the men looking somewhat nonplussed.

'I doubt we will ever find out what happened to the Duke,' Louis turned and flounced into a chair with dramatic effect. 'What of the men who fought the musketeers?'

'I believe that they have returned home and are no threat,' Tréville said quietly as Louis looked rather worn out. Rochefort snorted in derision.

'You think not?' Louis asked Rochefort wearily though it was only mid-morning.

'They fought against you, Sire. Surely they must be punished,' Rochefort glared at Tréville as if daring the former captain to contradict him.

'Tréville?'

'The men fought for the Duke against what they perceived was a threat,' Tréville chose his words carefully. 'However, when the situation was revealed that the Musketeers were there on your orders they instantly surrendered. They caused no problems for us extricating the Duke and I do not believe that they are any threat to the crown. The Duke may have been a traitor but I do not believe the people had much choice but to follow him. I warned them that any uprising would result in their deaths.'

'You are sure that they are no threat?' Louis asked pointedly.

'I do not believe so as I warned them of the consequences,' Tréville answered. Rochefort started to speak but Louis held up his hand.

'This has been rather draining,' Louis said as he poured himself some wine. 'I will try to convince Anne not to see the body of that awful man but she is a stubborn woman. Tréville you will be there and make sure she is looked after.'

'Yes, Majesty,' Tréville bowed.

'Good,' Louis waved a hand as Tréville and Rochefort recognised their dismissal.

Once out of the King's chambers Tréville turned and faced Rochefort.

'I know that you set this up,' Tréville growled. 'You sent Aramis to the Duke knowing that he would be tortured and killed. For reasons I cannot fathom, you also set up the attack on the Queen. How else would the route be known in advance in preparation for an ambush? You killed the Duke to stop him revealing that you are the traitor.'

'Some rather strong accusations Tréville,' Rochefort. 'Shame you can't prove any of them.' Rochefort knew that he would have to be wary of the musketeers as all of them knew the truth now. They just couldn't prove it. Any ambitious plans would have to be put on hold. For now.

'We're watching you Rochefort,' Tréville turned on his heel and left Rochefort just glad that his treachery couldn't be proven.

* * *

The bath tub was filled halfway up with water as Athos and D'Artagnan heated some water over the fire and placed some heated bricks into the cold water already in the bath. The mood was sullen as the musketeers waited for news of Tréville's likely arrest and they couldn't help but feel responsible. Especially Aramis.

'Maybe the King won't arrest him?' D'Artagnan tried to say positively but it was clear his heart didn't believe it.

'Whatever happens we must follow Tréville's orders,' Athos said quietly as he placed a warm brick into the bath. 'The Musketeer regiment will be in chaos without Tréville and only we can sort it and keep it from being disbanded. He knows that.'

'This is my fault,' Aramis murmured.

'Not everythin' is your fault,' Porthos responded immediately. 'You kept Henry and Agnes safe from those that would exploit them.'

'We all lied to the King,' D'Artagnan agreed.

'There are some things the King is better off not knowing,' Athos stated calmly. 'Maybe the Duke was bluffing or maybe he reveals Rochefort as the traitor and Louis completely forgets any lies that Tréville told him about his mother.

Athos and D'Artagnan added the warm pans of water into the bath and tested the temperature. They removed the bricks and added a few more as they tried to make the bath warm but not too hot.

'Come on,' Porthos grinned at Aramis. 'You're not going in the bath clothed y'know.'

'You're depraved, you know that?' Aramis teased back as Porthos helped him out of his shirt. Well Porthos' shirt. Aramis swayed slightly at the motion and they wanted to get him bathed as quickly as possible. He was still prone to exhaustion even though he wouldn't admit it.

'No point in cleanin' these,' Porthos said of his shirt and braies that Aramis had worn. 'I'll get some new ones.'

'It's ready,' Athos called as he finally felt the bath wasn't too hot but warm enough that Aramis could soak easily.

Aramis was pulled up by Porthos as Athos came to Aramis' other side. It was clear that i would be easier for Porthos just to pick Aramis up but they all knew these steps were important to the marksman, no matter how much it tired him. They just hoped nobody walked in to Aramis in his birthday suit.

As Aramis finally made it across to the bath he felt a sense of accomplishment although he knew he was heavily relying on Athos and Porthos. With D'Artagnan's help the three men managed to get the rather tired Aramis into the bath successfully.

The warm water was doing Aramis the world of good as he felt his muscles relax and the warmth of the water on his skin. He leant back and found that Athos had put a towel on the edge of the bath so he relax.

'Better?' Athos wore a small yet knowing smile as Aramis just blinked lazily at him.

'Warm,' was all Aramis could manage to say as his eyes closed sleepily.

The door to the infirmary opened causing the musketeers to look at the new arrival. Aramis' slow brain finally sussed something was up as he slowly turned around.

Tréville stood before them and although the captain was good at hiding his emotions his relief was clear but there was no joy in his demeanour.

'What happened?' Athos asked as Tréville pulled up a chair not batting an eyelid at Aramis in the bath.

'The Duke is dead,' he said with no emotion.

'He can't have been executed yet?' D'Artagnan looked confused.

'Rochefort,' Athos mumbled.

'I believe so,' Tréville said quietly. 'The Duke was murdered in the Bastille and Rochefort tried to suggest that one of you did it.'

'Sneaky git!' Porthos exclaimed. 'Blame us for what he did!'

'We can't prove it,' Aramis managed to say as his brain got up to speed.

'No, we can't',' Tréville agreed. 'However, Rochefort may have saved us as well as himself. The Duke can no longer tell the truth about Marie de Medici and our role in the deception. Her Majesty spoke up for all of you and together we convinced Louis that none you played a part in the Duke's death.'

'If I wanted to kill 'im I'd have done at his mansion,' Porthos growled.

'I made a point of your discipline when arresting the Duke,' Tréville was smirking slightly which the other men knew that their 'hits' had not been mentioned. Aramis suddenly yawned widely making everyone smile. 'Right get him clean and back to bed.'

'I am here you know,' Aramis was doing his best whine but Tréville knew he'd taken the comment lightly.

Aramis turned back around in the bath and Athos managed to catch the towel at Aramis' neck before it plunged into the water. Aramis was clearly exhausted so they had better bathe him quickly.

Tréville stood and nodded to the men still facing him as he gave a last glance towards Aramis before he left them alone.

'Aramis you need to try and stay awake,' Porthos said quietly.

'Warm, sleepy...' was all Aramis managed as his eyes started to close.

'We'll wash him. You do his hair,' Athos said instructed Porthos quietly who retrieved another bucket of warm water and soap to wash the dozing man's hair.

They set to work as Aramis dozed. He was mostly clean but they wanted to remove all the dried sweat covering large parts of his body. They were careful touching his chest and legs but Aramis only twitched slightly when the wounds were touched suggesting that they weren't being too rough. Porthos washed Aramis hair and a small smile crossed the marksman's face. Porthos was gentle with his touch and Aramis could relax knowing he was safe.

The water became tepid but the dozy Aramis didn't really care. He hadn't noticed Athos and D'Artagnan leave and return bearing clothes and sheets respectively. Athos had found clean clothes in Aramis' room and D'Artagnan had gone to fetch clean sheets. Aramis would want to move out of the infirmary but he wasn't yet strong enough. He would argue but this time the other three would win.

'Hey sleepyhead, time to get out,' Porthos gently touched Aramis' shoulder and Aramis blinked awake looking confused. 'You're clean now and I even washed your hair for you.'

Aramis' hand moved to his hair and he could feel that it was damp. 'So you did. Did I sleep through it all?'

'Yep,' Porthos grinned. 'Come on, out you get.' Porthos held the towel ready as Athos and D'Artagnan appeared and between them got Aramis out of the bath and wrapped in the towel. Porthos picked Aramis up and took over to his re-made bed.

'I can walk!' Aramis insisted but the others just rolled their eyes.

Together they managed to get Aramis dressed but it was made more complicated by Aramis insisting he could do it himself. He couldn't and the pain draught was wearing off and they all knew it. He was getting rather ratty at his inability to do things.

'Stop being awkward and let us do this!' Athos snapped as he'd finally had enough. The glare he sent his brother was enough to make Aramis cower. Slightly.

Soon Aramis was back in bed and he was now mumbling that he wanted to go back to his own room.

'I want my own bed,' Aramis said stubbornly.

'Not until you can walk,' D'Artagnan said doing his best not to show his amusement at Aramis' tantrum. 'You never let us go back to our rooms until we can walk there and you barely got across to the bath.'

'That's different,' Aramis' mumbled so quietly it was barely audible.

'How so?' Athos raised an eyebrow and all Aramis could do was huff.

The infirmary door opened and Constance came in looking rather happy to see Aramis awake.

'You smell better,' she smiled at him. 'Dr. Lemay gave me some pain draughts for you. He hopes to see you later tonight as he's been waylaid by a sickness spreading through the palace again. You've been more cheerful,' she said looking at the others for an explanation.

'He wants to go back to his room. We said no,' Athos stated matter-of-factly.

'You should listen to them Aramis,' Constance said sympathetically. 'Her Majesty told me about the Duke and how Rochefort tried to blame all of you.'

'Thanks to Her Majesty and the Captain we are not suspects,' D'Artagnan shook his head disbelievingly.

'Rochefort?' Constance asked worriedly as the men nodded. 'It worries me how much Her Majesty trusts him.'

'Until we have evidence I doubt she would be persuaded,' Athos said ruefully. 'She knew him long before we did.'

'I better go,' Constance said as she moved towards the door. 'You rest,' she said pointedly at Aramis before leaving.

'Ok,' Aramis huffed as he settled under the sheets again.

* * *

The next day passed swiftly and with little incident. Aramis was awake more often than the previous day and was continuing to badger the others about moving back to his own room. So far they were holding out. Just.

Gabriel and Vasselin had returned to Paris with body of the scarred man Renard. The body had been exactly where Tréville had said and both men were glad Aramis' torturer was dead. There didn't hide their disgust at the scarred man from anyone.

Tréville once again tried to reason with the Queen but she was adamant that she needed to see the body. She made it clear it was for own closure but Tréville wasn't completely convinced although he didn't know why.

Tréville had Renard's body taken to the tunnels underneath the Louvre and made it clear to the Queen that what she would see would be a rather revolting sight. A dead body was never pleasant but this one had had a few days to stew.

Tréville hesitated as he pulled back the canvas covering the body but the Queen seemed certain as her posture did not change and she didn't recoil. He pulled the cloth off the face of Renard to reveal the man's head and the clear bullet wound that had killed him. Tréville felt bile rise in his throat and although the Queen had gone slightly green she stared at the body in disgust with no suggestion of sickness.

'He tried to poison himself with hemlock,' Tréville explained. 'In the end, Athos showed him mercy by shooting him rather than leave him in agony for days.' Tréville placed the cloth back over Renard's face as he had seen enough. 'It is definitely the same man who was responsible for the attack on you and on Aramis.'

'Agreed,' Anne said as her mind was a whir. She wasn't sure what she felt knowing that her tormentor was dead but she was aware of the growing anger within her. Anger at Athos.

* * *

 **A/N: As I said trying to tie up loose ends as I go. If you notice anything I've not mentioned yet let me know. Possibly because I've forgotten! :)**


	44. Chapter 44

**Hello. Sunday again. This chapter didn't quite get to the point I planned. That does mean that there will now likely be an extra chapter. Here we find out why Anne was so annoyed with Athos.**

 **Warning: Does contain description of period typical racism and there are a couple of curses (I think.).**

 **I hope you enjoy it. :)**

* * *

Chapter Forty-Four

Athos was in the infirmary when Tréville found him. Aramis was asleep again but from the weary looks of the other men Tréville deduced that Aramis had been likely giving them a headache about moving back to his own room. Tréville couldn't help but chuckle slightly. Aramis was rather good at dispensing advice but taking his own advice never appeared register with him.

'Athos,' he called quietly and the musketeer rose from Aramis' beside to Tréville's position at the door. 'The Queen wishes to see you.'

Athos' forehead creased in confusion. 'What about?'

'I honestly don't know but she didn't seem happy. Actually, she appeared angry,' Tréville answered with his own confusion.

'Then I best go and see her,' Athos said as he moved back to his chair to retrieve his doublet.

'What's up?' Porthos asked as Athos put on his doublet.

'The Queen wishes to see me,' Athos shrugged. 'No idea why.'

'I'll come with you,' D'Artagnan moved to stand but Athos stopped him with a shake of the head.

'No,' he sighed. 'Both of you are needed to keep **him** in check,' he jabbed his thumb towards Aramis' sleeping form. 'I'll be back soon.' Athos collected his weapons and left the infirmary with Tréville leading the way.

'I don't know why Her Majesty wants to see you,' Tréville turned to the younger man. 'Just be careful. She did her best not to show it but she was shaken by seeing Renard's body.'

'I will,' Athos nodded as Tréville moved towards the stairs. Athos wondered what he could have done to annoy the usually compassionate and gentle queen.

* * *

Anne was pacing in her chambers. How could Athos show mercy to that criminal?! Constance was watching on helplessly as for once the Queen had refused to confide in her.

'Constance, make sure all of my other ladies are out of my chambers,' Anne said for the third time. 'I wish to speak to Athos alone but I will need you in the antechamber to stop us being interrupted. No matter what you hear you do not come in.' Anne looked up and saw how worried Constance was.

'Yes, Majesty,' Constance sighed but looked imploringly at the Queen but received no answer to her pleas.

They heard a knock on the antechamber door and Constance moved to answer it. Athos stood before her with his usual expressionless face but he noticed Constance's emotion.

'What's happened?' he asked.

'I don't know,' Constance said quickly. 'She's angry at you and she won't tell me why.'

Athos looked thoughtful as they quickly moved to the second door and Constance opened it. Athos entered, removed his hat and bowed. Anne waved Constance away to leave her alone with Athos.

They stood in silence for a moment but Athos could feel the anger radiating from the Queen. Something he had never felt before.

'How could you, Athos?' she asked quietly making Athos raise his eyebrows in surprise.

'I'm not sure what you mean, Your Majesty?' he replied clearly confused.

'You would show mercy to a man who doesn't deserve it!' Anne had raised her voice as Athos finally twigged why she was annoyed.

'You saw Renard's body and Tréville told you what happened,' Athos stated as he tried to think of a way to calm her.

'Yes he did. How could you betray Aramis like that?!' Anne was clearly angry and Athos did his best not to step away from her. 'Do you not care about Aramis at all?!'

Something inside Athos snapped. 'How dare you?' he roared forgetting who was in front of him. 'You imply that I would knowingly hurt Aramis? He is my friend and brother and means more to me than you will ever know.' He was seething as the Queen glared resolutely back.

'Then how could you show mercy to a man that kidnapped your Queen and Captain and then tortured you so called brother?' she seethed back as Athos realised that she was still raw with emotion and that this was more about Aramis than perhaps her own experience. He may have underestimated the feelings between them. Greatly. While he had known Aramis' feelings were genuine he had always thought that for the Queen Aramis was merely a crush, nothing more. He had also expected Aramis to move on but the marksman had continued to dwell and the child hadn't helped matters. The Queen was displaying her love for Aramis with her anger that his torturer hadn't suffered. This was more complex than he had given it credit for.

He turned and spied a decanter of wine and decided that they were beyond normal protocol now. He was also aware that Constance couldn't have failed to hear them in the next room. He moved over to the decanter and the two glasses and brought them over to the Queen's table where he filled the glasses generously.

Anne eyed him suspiciously but did not mention the detour from protocol. She was waiting for an answer.

'Please,' Athos waved to one of the empty chairs. 'I understand how you feel but please let me explain my actions.'

Anne hesitated for a moment before taking a seat and sipping the wine. She was clearly still seething. Athos took this as a cue to continue as he seated himself and drank a sip from his own glass.

'Firstly, you should know that Aramis completely agreed with my actions,' he stated waiting for her reaction. There was slight furrow of her brow and nothing more. 'As did Porthos and D'Artagnan.'

Anne shifted a bit in her seat as Athos' statement had made her uncomfortable and she knew he wouldn't lie about the others agreeing with his actions. Athos saw this and continued.

'What Renard did to you, Tréville and to Aramis was unforgivable,' he said quietly. 'When we rescued Aramis Renard and his men fought valiantly. We killed all of Renard's men and chained Renard in the same cell in which he had kept Aramis.' Athos saw Anne gulp slightly as she registered what he told her. 'He must have had a vial on him that we hadn't noticed. We were too busy with Aramis and his wounds to care about Renard. He drank the vial of hemlock trying to kill himself quickly. All he did was cause himself to suffer for what would have been many days if I hadn't shot him.'

'And so he should have,' spat Anne as she glared at Athos again but this time she saw sympathy in his eyes. 'He deserved to die in pain.'

'Did he?' Athos asked calmly. 'Did he really?'

'Of course he did,' Anne replied straight away. 'He captured me and Tréville, he murdered your colleagues and he tortured Aramis. He would have left Aramis to die in pain and he nearly did! He was a bastard of a man who deserved to suffer for what he did.' She glared at Athos as if daring him to contradict her.

'If I had left him to die in pain and suffering, how does that make me any better than him?' Athos asked calmly.

Anne ducked her head as guilt welled within her. She had been so caught up in everything that she had wanted a man to die in considerable pain. Still, she could not shake the feeling that it would have been deserved.

'I suppose it would lower you to his level,' Anne choked out.

'Indeed, but I can see you are still not convinced,' Athos replied quietly before sipping his wine.

'Surely he deserved the fate he would have left Aramis to,' Anne glared at Athos but she was taken aback by his lack of reaction. She couldn't possibly decipher what was going on in his mind.

'Would it help if I told you that my initial reaction was the same as yours?' Athos said calmly. He now felt he had a grasp on the situation and he wasn't going to relinquish it.

'It was?' Anne looked taken aback.

'I know for a fact that it was the same for Porthos and D'Artagnan,' he continued. 'We are all slave to our emotions but we are also able to apply logic and understanding to the same situation.'

Anne couldn't look at Athos now. The anger was abating but she was still struggling to understand why he had shown mercy. Athos watched as the Queen's turmoil was laid bare. She, like him, was usually very good at hiding her emotions but here it was clear for him to see. He realised he would need to explain it more thoroughly which also meant exposing his emotions.

'I have a theory,' Athos started and Anne raised her head to look at him, 'that there are two types of people. Those that enjoy inflicting pain and suffering and those that think they will enjoy it but feel guilty afterwards. We all have notions that certain circumstances will make us feel better. Putting someone who has caused you pain through pain themselves is often appealing. However, often that feeling does not last very long and can turn to guilt or it can become an addiction.'

'You think Renard was addicted?' Anne asked looking confused.

'I don't know,' Athos replied honestly. 'I know that he believed that Aramis had wronged him and that Aramis deserved the torture. He felt Aramis deserved to die in pain.'

'But-.' Athos held his hand up to silence her and Anne went quiet.

'Renard believed he was giving Aramis what he deserved,' Athos looked serious now. 'Just as you believe that Renard should have suffered.'

'What must you think of me?' Anne deflated before Athos' eyes. 'I'm as bad as he was.'

'No, you're not,' Athos said quietly. 'Because I don't believe you would have ever carried it out. I, on the other hand, am aware of the consequences.'

'Athos?' Anne asked as he swilled the dregs of the wine in his glass. He knew he had to tell her to get the point across but it wasn't a memory he wanted to revisit. He downed the rest of the wine and stared at the table. He noticed Anne refill his glass. 'Athos?'

'I know about the guilt in leaving a man to die in pain,' Athos said quietly. 'I too felt he deserved it but I know now that I was wrong. No-one deserves to die in pain if it can be avoided.'

'Please, Athos?' Anne could see his need to share this and she would never think any less of the man before her. She was certain of that.

'Do you remember the Comte de Marchant?' Athos asked.

'Oh what a horrible little man,' Anne said immediately making Athos' mouth quirk into a small smile. 'Always going on about how important nobility were and looking down at any woman, including me. I often feigned headaches to get away.' Anne was aware of the Comte's fate but she wanted to hear this from Athos.

'Yes, quite,' he smirked as he drank some more wine. 'The man was, forgive me, a complete arse,' he said as Anne grinned at his choice of words. 'Porthos and I were given the task of delivering a message to him. Aramis was unable to come because he had hurt his leg a couple of days previously. We were in the presence of the Comte as he wrote a reply to the delivered message. He made it very clear that he objected to Porthos being part of His Majesty's elite soldier regiment. In fact he had suggestions of where Porthos would be better suited.'

'What did Porthos do?' Anne was disgusted at the thought of Porthos being attacked like that.

'He bore it stoically as he usually does,' Athos sounded rather resigned. 'It's usually him controlling Aramis and myself at times like that. Aramis can get particularly defensive of Porthos,' Athos held a small smile for a few seconds. 'We were happy to be away from the Comte's lands but we were attacked about an hour down the road. Porthos was taken and I was left propped against a tree knocked out. I was found by a nearby farmer whose wife looked after me. I had a serious concussion and was unwell for a few days. I finally managed to piece everything together when I realised I still had all my weapons, the letter and nothing was missing from either of the saddlebags.'

'The Comte had men attack you?' Anne looked shocked as Athos nodded.

'Yes. That was the only reason I could come up with,' Athos was now starting to shake slightly. 'Bandits would have taken the weapons and provisions and I still had the Comte's reply. It took me another day but I found the old farmhouse where they were keeping Porthos. The Comte's carriage was drawn up outside. I was beyond angry. I shot the first man I saw and threw my dagger at the next. The Comte was trying to get into the carriage but he shot a pistol at me which grazed my left arm. I didn't feel it as I ran at him my anger saw to that. It was over quickly as he fell. I realised I had inflicted a fatal wound but it would take hours for him to die. I raced inside and dispatched the other men eager to fond Porthos. Porthos had been beaten every time he had disagreed that his only use was as a slave.' Anne couldn't control the gasp that left her at Athos' words.

'That is awful,' Anne said looking shocked. She had never really understood what could befall these men and the terrible things humans could do to each other.

'He recovered,' Athos smiled back. 'I got him to the farmhouse where I had been cared for but before I left I saw the Comte lying on the ground. I knew he was in pain and I also knew he would die and that it would take time. He looked at me, his eyes begging me to kill him and I refused. I will never forget that look. I tried to justify my actions by telling myself that he deserved it. Aramis knew something was wrong but I blocked him out. We hadn't known each other long so he was a bit offended. Now he just waits for me to tell him,' Athos gave a small smile. 'In the end it troubled me so much that I told Aramis everything. I expected him to tell me that I was a terrible person who should no longer be a musketeer. That he would tell the Captain and I would be gone.'

'Clearly that didn't happen,' Anne smiled softly.

'He told me about the time that he had done the same thing,' Athos sighed. 'How it haunted him and that he vowed he would let no man suffer when he could show him mercy. I later found out that Porthos had also done something similar in the past. So you see, that is why I showed mercy to Renard. Nothing excuses what he did but no man deserves to die in pain when it can be taken away.'

'I see now,' Anne said feeling horribly guilty. 'I'm sorry for suggesting you didn't care about Aramis. I know nothing could be further from the truth.'

'I understand,' Athos honestly.

'Aramis' injuries were so bad and he was so weak, I just-.'

'You saw him?' Athos interrupted as Anne realised what she had said.

'Yes,' she stood and walked over to the fireplace while Athos sighed and stood.

'You know how dangerous that was,' he didn't sound accusing, mainly worried.

'I know, but I had to see him,' she turned to face Athos. 'Had the three of you been there I wouldn't have, but Rochefort said he wasn't going to make it through the night and knew I had to go.'

'You weren't seen?' Athos asked.

'No,' Anne decided against telling Athos about Jean. 'How is he?'

'Honestly? Being a right pain in the backside,' Athos sighed with a fond look.

'Really?' Anne giggled.

'He always tells us that we can't go back to our rooms until we can walk.'

'He can't walk?'

'We he can,' Athos sighed. 'As long as we're propping him up. Almost carrying him to be honest.'

'Will you give in?' Anne was smiling broadly now.

'Yes,' Athos huffed. 'It'll stop his whining but we will not leave him alone.'

'Thank you for being so understanding, Athos,' Anne was now looking rather more like herself.

'I apologise for raising my voice,' Athos replied.

'I deserved it,' Anne moved towards the door and found a rather worried looking Constance sat stiffly in one of the chairs.

'It's ok Constance,' Anne smiled. 'We have sorted out my misunderstanding.'

Constance looked from Athos to Anne and relaxed as they did seem far less tense.

'Sorry about the shouting,' Athos added.

'I thought a war was going on in there,' Constance muttered making Anne smile and Athos smirk.

'I'll tell you about it later,' Anne suddenly looked to Athos who nodded his approval. 'Why don't you go and see Aramis?'

'Maybe you can talk sense into him,' Athos muttered under his breath making Constance smile.

'See you later,' Anne said as she moved back into her room as Athos and Constance made their way to the stables.

* * *

Constance and Athos arrived at the garrison after riding in silence. It was a comfortable silence as Constance felt it best not to antagonise Athos with what happened with Queen Anne. She had heard him shout but she also knew that he had managed to resolve whatever was on the Queen's mind.

Athos wasn't so much thinking about his meeting with Her Majesty but more something she had said.

They dismounted and headed straight for the infirmary. They both shot each other an amused look as they heard raised voices through the door.

Athos entered first to see Aramis trying to stand up on his own holding onto the bed and bedside table. D'Artagnan was stood close enough that he could catch him while Porthos was stood, arms folded, on the other side of the bed with his best 'I'm not amused' expression.

'Give it up, Aramis,' Porthos did actually sound rather amused. 'You can't walk yet.'

'So...,' Constance stood with her hands on her hips as she gained the attention of every man in the room. 'This is what happens when I leave you boys alone.'

'He said he could walk,' D'Artagnan tried as a defence.

'There's two of you and you can't manage one Aramis?' Constance started to stride over to the bed. 'Back to bed,' she said seriously as Aramis rolled his eyes and started to climb back into bed. Once in place laughter filled the room and Constance looked rather proud of herself.

'You tell 'im Constance,' Porthos grinned.

'I still want to go back to my own room,' Aramis whined as he folded his arms across his chest.

'Constance,' Athos called gaining everyone's attention. 'Do you remember Rochefort being here when you looked after Aramis that night?'

Constance suddenly went pale. She'd forgotten all about Rochefort with Anne's arrival and Aramis finally recovering. She stumbled slightly but D'Artagnan was close enough to catch her.

'I forgot...all about that,' she stammered as Athos quickly moved the chair so D'Artagnan could place her in it. 'What he could have done. No...that's why he was here. He could have killed you,' she looked terrified as she looked at Aramis and that night came flooding back to her. 'I shouldn't have left you alone.'

'Constance calm down,' D'Artagnan said as he knelt by her chair.

'What happened?' Athos knelt at the other side. 'Start at the beginning.'

'Doctor Jardin took me into the office to tell me that he didn't think Aramis would make it through the night,' Constance said quietly. 'He'd given up, I could see it. In the end I snapped and stormed out of the office.' She looked apologetically at Aramis. 'Rochefort was stood over you. To think what he could have done. He could have killed you and it would have been my fault!'

'Constance, that is not true,' Aramis said firmly.

'But it is!' she wailed. 'He could have killed you while I was in the office.'

'But he didn't,' Athos said firmly. 'It doesn't matter what he could have done. He didn't because you were here.'

'Athos is right,' Aramis agreed. 'You looked after me so well Constance. Don't blame yourself for something that didn't happen.'

'But-.'

'But nothing,' Porthos growled. 'You didn't do anything wrong and Rochefort didn't get 'im. No point in worrying what could have been.'

'They're right,' D'Artagnan squeezed her hand. 'You were wonderful Constance.'

'I shouldn't have left you,' she muttered while glancing at Aramis under her lashes.

'There was only you Constance,' Aramis said but he saw a quick flash over Athos' eyes. Did Athos know Anne was here? 'It takes all three of them to look after me!'

A momentary silence followed as laughter then spread throughout the room.

'Rochefort was trying to eliminate you,' Athos said to Aramis as he stood. 'With your and the Duke's testimonies Louis would likely have charged him with treason. We all know now but Rochefort knows our word is not enough for Louis. I think you're safe for now. Safe as us anyway.'

'You've nine lives mate,' Porthos chuckled.

'I think I may be considerably over that now,' Aramis said matter-of-factly causing a ripple of laughter.

Constance smiled as their banter continued. These men didn't blame her but part of her couldn't shake the idea that Rochefort could have succeeded. They lived with life and death every day, never knowing if death was coming. That's why they valued each other so much. If they didn't blame her, then perhaps in time, she wouldn't blame herself for something that didn't happen.

* * *

 **A/N: This was originally meant to be the penultimate chapter but most likely it won't be now. I didn't get as far as I wanted as Athos, for once, kept talking. It was also pointed out to me that the musketeers weren't aware of how close Rochefort came to killing Aramis. They would never blame Constance though.**

 **So we're nearly at the end, but not quite. Still got some brotherly love to give and we haven't quite seen the last of Rochefort in this fic. :)**


	45. Chapter 45

**Hello. This is the penultimate chapter, or at least that is the plan. This is a chapter I just wanted to write from the beggining. It's just our boys looking after each other so I hope you will just indulge me.**

 **I hope you enjoy it! :)**

* * *

Chapter Forty-Five

After a few hours where Aramis dozed off again the other musketeers finally came to a decision. Getting Aramis back to his own room was by far the best course of action. Mainly because it would stop his whining and they had all had enough. Dr. Lemay had visited and was happy with Aramis' progress and instructed them to try and get Aramis to eat some solid food. He had also left some weakened pain draughts as he wanted to start weening Aramis off the stronger concoctions which could be addictive.

They decided not to tell Aramis about their decision until they had everything set up, so Porthos and D'Artagnan left to organise Aramis' room leaving the dozing Aramis with Athos.

Aramis woke and turned to look at Athos before registering that Porthos and D'Artagnan weren't in the room.

'They had enough of your bellyaching,' Athos dryly answered Aramis' unasked question as he helped Aramis sit up.

'I'm not that bad,' Aramis pouted. 'You lot aren't exactly quiet when you're injured or ill.'

'True,' Athos said absentmindedly. 'Ready to get dressed?'

'Why?' Aramis still appeared to be pouting.

'Well, you're not walking across the courtyard in your underwear,' Athos waited as it suddenly clicked in Aramis' brain that he would go back to his own room tonight.

They shared a couple of meaningful glances before Aramis swung his legs out of bed and Athos produced some breeches and Aramis' boots.

'You finally gave into my nagging,' Aramis grinned.

'As we always do,' Athos huffed as he helped Aramis dress. 'Fall flat on your face and I'll bring you right back here.'

'No you won't,' Aramis contradicted him and they both knew Aramis was right.

'Ready?' Athos asked as Aramis was now decently clothed. 'Take it easy,' Athos allowed Aramis to lean on him and they slowly started towards the door.

So far so good but Athos knew getting down the stairs would be difficult and was rather relying on Porthos' appearing to get Aramis up the stairs to his room. For a moment they stood at the top of the steps and surveyed the courtyard. It wasn't very busy and Aramis was grateful for the lack of an audience. He stood for a moment enjoying breathing in the air outside rather the stuffy infirmary that he had been stuck in.

'Ready?' Athos asked as he steered Aramis towards the stairs.

'I suppose,' Aramis said hesitantly.

'We can go back,' Aramis shot Athos a filthy look that made Athos smirk.

Carefully they made their way down the stairs. The few occupants of the courtyard didn't stare and they were grateful.

'Looking a bit unsteady there, Aramis,' Joubert smiled.

'You're looking better,' Aramis managed to say back while gripping Athos tightly.

'I'm recovering and soon you will be back to your normal self,' Joubert smiled. 'Need a hand?'

'No thanks,' Aramis replied.

'Wasn't talking to you,' Joubert glanced at Athos who smirked but shook his head.

'Alright then,' Joubert said as he smiled and wandered off to the mess hall as Athos and Aramis made their way over to the stairs to the dormitories.

'Right,' Athos huffed. 'I hate these stairs at the best of times.'

Together they managed to get half-way up before they had to rest. They leant on the bannister out of breath and looking rather tired.

'You two comin' or what?' Porthos grinned form the top of the stairs.

'You took your time,' Athos grumbled.

'Come on,' he made to just support Aramis or at least that was what the marksman thought. Suddenly Aramis was held rather tightly in Porthos arms and gave the larger man a disparaging look.

'Take too long otherwise,' Porthos grinned as Athos followed them up the stairs grateful that he was no longer supporting his friend.

Porthos carried Aramis into his room where D'Artagnan was putting the finishing touches to the arrangement. Aramis huffed a laugh as he realised that he had escaped the infirmary but he couldn't escape his brothers.

'Don't you have your own rooms?' Aramis asked in jest.

'Course we do,' Porthos answered as he placed Aramis down on the bed. Well, on Porthos' bed which had been slotted next to Aramis' own bed which was still in place against the wall. 'Don't you remember, your room is in-between mine and Athos' and D'Artagnan's snagged the room on the other side of Athos' room.' Aramis just scowled playfully in reply making the other's laugh.

'Right,' Athos said sternly. 'You're going to eat some food and then I suggest we have an early night.'

'And you've got to take your pain draught,' D'Artagnan nodded to Aramis who merely nodded in agreement.

'Right, I'll go and get some food,' Porthos said smacking his hands together as he felt his own stomach rumbling and left.

'Let's move you to the chair,' Athos said as he and D'Artagnan moved Aramis to sit in a chair at his table. Aramis was clearly exhausted after his adventure from the infirmary to his room but he was glad to be back in his own room.

'Are you ok?' D'Artagnan asked as Aramis slumped in his chair. Aramis could only nod as Athos pushed a mug of water in front of him which Aramis drank deeply from.

'Food, then sleep,' Athos said sternly as he drank from his own mug.

When Porthos returned with some mouth-watering stew Aramis finally realised how hungry he was. He knew he would have to pace himself but he managed to eat the bowl of stew he was given and some bread with it. Porthos, as usual, went back for seconds but soon they were all fed and Aramis' ability to eat as much as he had made the others feel a lot better too.

'Bed,' Athos said as he lit the candles as he noticed Aramis had started yawning. They all desperately needed sleep as worrying about Aramis had left the others sleep deprived as well.

Porthos moved Aramis over to the bed with little effort and Aramis, for once, didn't complain.

'Foot,' Athos said as he crouched before Aramis who just lifted his leg up so Athos could remove his boot and sock. 'Other one,' Aramis complied as before.

D'Artagnan stood watching as he remembered the first time this had happened. Through the course of his time with the men he now called brothers, all of them had needed comfort and reassurance at one time or another. This had been rather alien to him at first as men didn't show emotion and comfort was for women. His father had always encouraged him to 'be a man' which meant dealing with your problems alone. Thanks to his newfound brothers he had learnt that there was no shame in needing help and that trusting your emotions to them was better than bottling it up. Although Athos had been important in this, the swordsman had finally realised that his past wasn't something he should hide from Aramis and Porthos. It took a while but Athos had finally learnt to let go as well.

The first time was quite a strange experience for D'Artagnan though and it was Aramis who was in dire need of help.

* * *

 **FLASHBACK**

The musketeers were in the Wren tavern drinking as they often did but tonight it was different. Only one musketeer was drinking full cups of wine while the others pretended to be drinking and for once it wasn't Athos getting drunk.

D'Artagnan sat bewildered at the scene before him. Aramis was steadily becoming drunker with each cup of wine he drank while Athos and Porthos were pretending to drink and had consumed a fraction of the wine Aramis had.

D'Artagnan took the bottle and poured some wine into his cup but Athos immediately took the bottle back as D'Artagnan had only poured a mouthful. Athos then proceeded to fill Aramis' cup again.

'Come on Aramis, you're lagging behind,' Athos said as he downed his mouthful of wine and Porthos followed suit.

'Yeah,' Porthos agreed.

'How come none of you are drunk?' Aramis slurred slightly looking confused.

'You're a lightweight compared to us,' Porthos chuckled as Aramis glared at D'Artagnan.

'Athos is rationing me,' D'Artagnan said as he responded to Aramis' glare.

Aramis downed his cup of wine and Athos immediately refilled it with the rest of the bottle. Aramis' eyes were beginning to become unfocused and Athos and Porthos shared a look.

'We're going as soon as he's drunk that cup,' Athos said to D'Artagnan who just nodded.

D'Artagnan was still slightly nonplussed at the situation. It had been a hard few days for Aramis with Marsac returning and the truth finally being revealed about the doomed practice exercise at the Savoy border. Topped with the fact that Aramis had to shoot his former best friend to save the Captain, it had been a wild few days. Still D'Artagnan was struggling to understand why only Aramis was drunk.

Aramis looked around and saw the barmaid and smiled at her. She was short but rather curvy with fire-red hair and was smiling back at him.

'Not tonight,' Porthos sighed as he shook his head smiling.

'What?' Aramis said with an innocent expression before downing his wine.

'You're far too drunk,' Athos said sternly.

'I'm never **that** drunk,' Aramis pouted slightly as he made to stand. He wobbled and was caught by Porthos and then descended into giggles. 'Maybe I'm a bit drunk.'

'Yer think?' Porthos chuckled clearly amused.

'Am I de only one drinkin'?' Aramis asked as he looked at his friends. 'Cos no one of you seem drunk.' Aramis was stumbling over his words now and he was looking very confused.

'We told yer that we were,' Porthos lied earnestly. 'I'm bigger than you and Athos can drink anyone under the table. Young'un we kept on a leash,' he grinned at D'Artagnan who then accidentally fell over his chair as he tried to walk around it.

'See?' Athos smirked as Aramis giggled again. D'Artagnan was sure he had gone bright red.

'Come on,' Porthos wrapped his arm around the unsteady marksman as Athos took his other side and they, rather slowly, left the tavern.

Aramis was clearly in need of being held up but that didn't stop him talking.

'You know 'Thos,' he said seriously. 'You get very grumpy when you're drunk and you can be very, very moody.' Athos shot a look at Porthos and both men managed to hold in their laughs. Just. 'But I like you anyway,' Aramis was oblivious to the communication between Athos and Porthos.

'I'm glad to hear it, as I like you too,' Athos responded making Aramis smile widely.

'P'rthos?'

'Yep,' Porthos looked at Aramis who was really struggling to walk now.

'I like you too,' Aramis said dopily. 'But not when you force me into bed. Wait, that didn't sound right...' Aramis was now musing at what he'd said while Athos was biting his lip to stop the laugh that was trying to make itself known and Porthos was chuckling silently. D'Artagnan was unable to stop his smile. Drunk Aramis was funny.

'What I meant was...you making me go to bed when I don't want to...' Aramis was still looking confused as he stumbled over his words. 'Yes...that's right...but I still like you.'

'Thanks...I think,' Porthos managed to stave of the laugh that he sorely wanted to let out.

'D'Art...tag...nan...yes...that's right,' Aramis was being practically dragged by Athos and Porthos as the marksman's feet appeared to have stopped working. 'I think I like you too,' Aramis caught D'Artagnan's eye.

'Good,' D'Artagnan managed to get out. 'I like you too Aramis,' Aramis was practically beaming as they entered the garrison looking like a rather awkward monster casting a very strange shadow.

D'Artagnan noticed Tréville up on the balcony and was worried about what the Captain may think at this situation. He relaxed as he saw Tréville nod to Athos who nodded back in return.

'Sttairss,' Aramis slurred as they stood in front of the stairs that led to their rooms.

'Gotta go up them,' Porthos smirked and Aramis managed a decent glare even in his inebriated state.

Slowly they made their way up the stairs. Aramis stumbled a few times but Porthos and Athos managed to catch him. D'Artagnan knew he shouldn't find this funny but he justified it by noticing that Athos and Porthos were highly amused as well.

They moved into Aramis' room and sat Aramis in his chair looking a bit lost.

'See if you can get his weapon belts off,' Athos said quietly to D'Artagnan. 'And make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.'

'I can hear you, you know,' Aramis glared dopily at Athos who just raised an eyebrow before leaving with Porthos.

'Let's get you belts off,' D'Artagnan said to Aramis with the later falling into giggles again. D'Artagnan persevered and finally managed to remove Aramis' belts and blue sash as he heard a clanging sound.

Athos and Porthos appeared carrying a bedframe, more precisely, Porthos' bedframe. Between them they expertly moved the frame through Aramis' door and placed it next to Aramis' bed. They had done this before.

D'Artagnan heard Aramis mumble, 'I can sleep by myself,' but didn't acknowledge it.

Porthos returned with a mattress and Athos with blankets and pillows.

Porthos took Aramis' hat of his head while Aramis' made a little moan.

'You can't sleep in your hat,' Porthos sounded slightly exasperated as he then lifted Aramis by the armpits onto the edge of the bed. Porthos quickly removed his own doublet and made to start undoing Aramis'.

'I can do it myself,' Aramis said petulantly as he batted Porthos' hands away. Athos and Porthos shared a knowing smirk.

'Foot,' Athos commanded and Aramis just lifted his left leg off the floor allowing Athos pull off his boot and sock. Usually rather efficient at multitasking Aramis suddenly wasn't able to do two things at once as he struggled in holding his leg up and undoing his doublet. D'Artagnan could see that this situation wasn't new to Athos and Porthos. 'Other one,' Athos called as Aramis lifted his right leg up.

Porthos moved behind Aramis and started to undo the marksman's doublet in earnest.

'I said I'd do it,' Aramis whined but he continued to allow Athos to remove his other boot and Porthos his doublet.

'Some time tonight was preferable an' you were too slow,' Porthos chuckled earning a glare from Aramis.

'Can you get your breeches off?' Athos asked as Aramis sent a glare his way. 'I was just asking,' Athos barely contained the smirk.

Aramis was tiring and Porthos had already stripped down to his shirt and braies while Athos was removing his own doublet. D'Artagnan watched on looking surprised at the arrangement.

'He has nightmares,' Athos told him after seeing his confusion. 'Gets worse around the Savoy anniversary and after everything that has happened this won't be a comfortable night.'

'So you stay with him?' D'Artagnan asked incredulously.

'He can hurt himself otherwise,' Athos said as he removed his boots. 'He lashes out in his nightmare. You don't have to stay. If you choose to, take the space by the wall but know that you won't get a lot of sleep.' D'Artagnan could already see Aramis with his eyes closed and his head on Porthos' shoulder lying in the middle of the beds.

'You want me to stay?' D'Artagnan asked unsure.

'Only if you want to,' Athos gave a small smile. 'I don't like being boxed in so I'm always on the edge.'

D'Artagnan barely knew these men and yet they were allowing him to see how they looked after each other. He undressed and soon took his place next to the wall. Porthos gave him a reassuring smile as Aramis was now clearly asleep.

'Won't last long,' Porthos warned as Athos started to douse the candles.

There was a knock at the door and Athos answered it to reveal Tréville peering in.

'How is he?' the Captain asked.

'We got him rather drunk so hopefully that will help,' Athos answered quietly.

Tréville eyed D'Artagnan and gave a small smile. 'Let me know if you need anything. I don't expect to see you in the morning.' He told Athos who nodded as Tréville left and they all settled down.

D'Artagnan wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep but he was woken by Porthos' voice.

'Aramis calm down,' Porthos said holding the marksman to his chest.

'Nooooo,' Aramis whined quietly. 'Nooo.'

'You're safe Aramis,' Athos voice travelled and D'Artagnan saw his outline in the moonlight coming through the window. Athos was also running his fingers through Aramis' hair.

Aramis was shaking his head against Porthos shoulder and D'Artagnan felt very helpless. It took a few minutes but after constant reassurance from Athos and Porthos Aramis finally seemed to settle but he hadn't woken throughout the whole nightmare.

'Can you take him?' Porthos asked Athos. 'I need to use the pot. He got me in the stomach.'

'Are you alright?' D'Artagnan asked daring to speak for the first time since he had woken.

'Fine,' Porthos smiled. 'He's hit me harder.' Porthos transferred Aramis to Athos' arms as he quickly left the room.

'D'Artagnan, come closer,' Athos said quietly. 'He's starting to shiver.'

D'Artagnan moved so his chest was pressing against Aramis' back and Aramis' shivering abated.

'Is it always like this?' he asked.

'Usually there are triggers,' Athos explained. 'He'll be alright after a few days.' Athos pulled the blanket higher as Porthos returned.

D'Artagnan moved to let Porthos back. The night had a few more disturbances and Aramis did wake a couple of times meaning that nobody managed much sleep. D'Artagnan woke in the morning to find Athos and Porthos dressing and Aramis fast asleep.

'Just stay with him,' Athos said quietly. 'He doesn't do well when he wakes alone. I'm just going to update Tréville.'

'I'm going to get breakfast,' Porthos smiled.

They left leaving D'Artagnan alone with the sleeping Aramis. So many things ran through his mind as he wondered whether Aramis would be angry with his presence. Maybe Aramis would tell him to leave as he had no business being there. What if Athos was wrong in inviting him to stay?

'You're overthinking,' Aramis' voice shocked D'Artagnan out of his thoughts. 'What are you overthinking?'

'Whether you wanted me here,' D'Artagnan answered truthfully.

'Why wouldn't I want you here?' Aramis asked as he sat up.

'Because...' D'Artagnan wasn't sure how to word it.

'You just saw me at my most vulnerable?' Aramis gave a small smile. 'We all have our demons but I have found it helps to be with your friends.'

'I wasn't sure you'd want me here,' D'Artagnan looked rather worried.

'You're my friend D'Artagnan,' Aramis placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. 'I'm not ashamed. I used to be but I've found that letting my friends in helps. Don't bottle it up. I tried that and, well, it's not a good place to go. Athos still doesn't want to let go of his darkest secret but he will eventually. You have your own that you're worried you will be judged over. When you're ready, let us help you because there will be times when you need help. We all do. You don't think any less of me because of this?'

'No, no of course not!' D'Artagnan stated immediately and honestly.

'Then why would we think less of you?' Aramis turned away to start getting dressed and left D'Artagnan with his thoughts.

* * *

'D'Artagnan?' Aramis called bringing D'Artagnan out of his thoughts.

'Hmm?' D'Artagnan replied as he realised that all three of his friends were now looking at him with varying degrees of amusement.

'You back with us?' Porthos chuckled.

'I hope you went somewhere nice,' Athos drawled.

'Just remembering the first time this happened,' D'Artagnan looked rather bashfully at the floor.

'That was me after the Marsac incident,' Aramis said quietly as D'Artagnan nodded.

'You thought we were mad, didn't you?' Athos smirked.

'It was different from what I was used to,' D'Artagnan smiled back.

'Now it's normal,' Aramis quipped as D'Artagnan nodded his agreement.

'I'm not sure that's a good thing!' Porthos laughed as the others followed suit. Aramis yawned widely and his shut his eyes momentarily.

'I asked you, do you still want to be my pillow?' Aramis asked D'Artagnan with a smile. 'I warn you I fidget a lot and have been known to cause injury.'

'Yeah I know!' Porthos exclaimed while Athos nodded and smirked.

'You're making it sound like very inviting,' Athos drawled sarcastically.

'I thought you said I was too bony,' D'Artagnan retorted.

'I also said that you could be my pillow if you wanted to be,' Aramis replied. 'No matter, Porthos-.'

'No, I want to,' D'Artagnan realised how eager he sounded and rolled his eyes as the others laughed.

'Come on then, I'm exhausted,' Aramis yawned.

D'Artagnan quickly stripped down to his braies and noticed that he must have been reminiscing longer than he thought as everyone else was ready to sleep. He crawled onto the bed in the middle of Porthos, who was against the wall, and Aramis who started prodding D'Artagnan's chest before placing his head there.

'Not as bony as I thought,' he quipped before yawning. D'Artagnan rolled his eyes as his arms encircled Aramis.

'That's because he's been training with me,' Porthos said as he closed his eyes. Athos doused the candles and within minutes the men were fast asleep.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope this chapter was enjoyable even though it didn't really tie anything up in the story. I just wanted to write it.**

 **Currently, my plan is for the next chapter to be the last one. :( If there is anything that I haven't sewn up or is irritating you please let me know. :)**

 **Thank you for sticking with this! :)**


	46. Chapter 46

**Well the time is upon us. This is the final chapter. I feel slightly sad that this has come to an end but all things must. There is a little bit of joy and a bit of angst in this chapter. Rochefort is back.**

 **Warning: Right at the end a couple of curses.**

 **I hope you enjoy it. :)**

* * *

Chapter Forty-Six

Aramis happily spent a few days in his room before he started pleading again. This time he wanted to go outside but he was still very unsteady on his feet. Due to his exertions to get back to his room he had also developed a slight fever from pushing himself too hard but he preferred to ignore it than acknowledge that he had returned to his room too soon. If there was a contest for eye-rolling the remaining Inseparables would have won it easily.

'But it's sunny!' Aramis pleaded for the third day in a row. His fever had gone but he had practically been locked in his room by the others to stop him doing something idiotic. They had agreed that Aramis had to be supervised at all times for his own good. 'Sun makes you feel better,' Aramis tried again.

Athos pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and sighed loudly. He was going to give in and he knew it. Porthos and D'Artagnan were currently elsewhere on duty in the marketplace and Aramis knew that with only one of them he had a much better shot at getting out. Athos also knew that when he finally left Aramis alone if he needed to get food or water Aramis would be stubborn enough to try and get down the stairs by himself.

'Please, Athos?' Aramis managed his best pleading eyes. 'I don't like being stuck in here.'

'Alright!' Athos exclaimed as he finally gave in making Aramis smile broadly. 'You'll have to get dressed.'

Athos threw Aramis his breeches and watched in amusement as Aramis was still unable to bend sufficiently to put them on. Aramis sighed and threw his breeches back to Athos who quirked an eyebrow.

'Do you require help?' Athos enquired with a smirk.

'Please,' Aramis said looking annoyed at Athos' trick. The cuts on his chest were healing but he was still having trouble bending.

Together they managed to get Aramis dressed quickly and made the slow journey to the courtyard. It took a fair bit of effort and a few stops but they finally reached 'their' table which was immediately vacated by the cadets who had been using it in the absence of the Inseparables.

Athos and Aramis shared a smirk as they finally sat down. The cadets had already learnt not to mess with Inseparables, injured or not.

'Don't you dare tell me you want to go back to your room,' Athos threatened light-heartedly making Aramis chuckle.

'Now you come to mention it...' Aramis waited and saw the glare that told him Athos was not taking him back until the others arrived. No arguments. 'It's a nice day,' Aramis smiled as he breathed in the air and felt the sun on his face.

Athos disappeared to get some food and wine leaving Aramis to soak up the sun. He watched the courtyard where some of the new cadets were training and deduced that some weren't bad but some had a long way to go. He chuckled as he remembered he had been the new trainee a long time ago. Well, he was never **that** bad.

Athos returned with some cheese, bread and wine and both men started to eat and drink. Aramis was feeling much better being outdoors and was glad his persistence had paid off.

There was a noise at the gate as it looked like someone was trying to deliver something as there was a cart involved. Tréville came out of his office.

'What is your business?' he barked as no deliveries were expected today and he was still under strain even though he was no longer captain.

'Sorry t'disturb you, Capt'n,' a familiar voice rang out. 'My name is Dubois and I work for the Comte de Fortier.'

Athos and Aramis turned at his voice and watched as the cart was let into the courtyard. Dubois jumped down from the seat and immediately grinned as he saw Athos and Aramis sat at their table. Herbert and Bouchard appeared smiling as well.

'Well, he'll be chuffed to know you're ok, Monsieur Aramis,' Dubois beamed.

'He'll be fine, as long as he doesn't annoy me anymore,' Athos said dryly.

'I'm not **that** annoying,' Aramis retorted.

'So what do we have here?' Tréville asked as he moved to inspect the wagon.

'Six barrels of cider as a gift from the Comte de Fortier,' Dubois said proudly.

'Why?' Athos asked looking slightly incredulous as he held Aramis up as they approached the cart.

'Well, he wanted to thank you all for the amazing job you did in protecting his gifts and all of us,' Herbert smiled looking slightly embarrassed.

'Really?' Aramis looked directly at Dubois.

'An' he wanted to know whether you'd been found safely,' Dubois admitted. 'He had to leave before he knew what happened an' he hoped that you were well. He'll be happy to know that you're recovering. He would have come 'imself but his eldest son returned last week.'

'Well, I'm glad to see that Herbert has recovered,' Aramis smiled warmly making the younger man blush slightly.

'A lot of it was thanks to you, Monsieur,' he mumbled.

'What's goin' on?' Porthos' voice drifted over as he and D'Artagnan returned from their patrol. 'Dubois,' he grinned.

'What's this?' D'Artagnan asked.

'Cider for t'garrison,' Dubois stated proudly.

'Nice,' Porthos chuckled. 'An' what are you doin' out of your room?' Porthos looked accusingly at Aramis who was being supported by Athos.

'He was pleading and I couldn't take it anymore,' Athos answered causing Aramis to giggle.

'He got to you then?' D'Artagnan laughed.

'Aramis, you should be resting,' Constance's voice shocked them all and Porthos had to catch Aramis before he fell after Athos' jolt of surprise.

'Hi Constance,' Aramis smiled looking rather guilty.

'You lot are supposed to be looking after him,' she said accusingly at the other three.

'Don't blame us,' D'Artagnan indicated himself and Porthos, 'it was Athos that let him out.'

'Thank you, D'Artagnan,' Athos said sarcastically as he and Porthos manoeuvred Aramis back to the bench.

'Where d'you want the cider Capt'n?' Dubois asked as Tréville decided not to point out that he wasn't captain anymore and a gift of alcohol was one he couldn't really refuse.

'Put it in the kitchen please,' he said as the barrels were unloaded. 'You three can take the spare rooms for tonight as it's the least we can do,' Tréville looked stern as Dubois looked to object. He turned to the Inseparables who just shrugged suggesting that Dubois just do as he was told.

'We thank you for your hospitality, Capt'n,' he responded leading to a small smile from Tréville.

'Captain?' Constance called as Tréville turned to her and saw her holding a rather heavy money bag. 'Her Majesty wanted to thank all the musketeers that were involved in her rescue and she wanted to offer her condolences for the men that were lost in the original ambush. She hoped you would be able to distribute this money fairly.'

Tréville took the pouch and realised how heavy it was.

'She also wanted to thank you for everything you did,' Constance smiled.

'I did nothing,' Tréville replied but he felt all eyes on him. Technically, this was no longer his responsibility but he would distribute the money fairly. 'I'll see to it,' he said quietly and started back up the stairs.

'Is he ok?' Constance turned to the musketeers.

'No,' Athos replied honestly. 'The longer Louis keeps him in the lurch the more he pulls away.'

'Louis'll change his mind soon enough,' Porthos stated boldly.

'Let's hope so,' Aramis sighed as D'Artagnan nodded.

'I better get back but don't do anything stupid,' Constance glared not only at Aramis but the rest of them as well.

Later that evening the musketeers along with Dubois, Herbert and Bouchard ate their evening meal and washed it down with a healthy, or maybe unhealthy, amount of fine cider. The musketeers told an edited version of Aramis' disappearance so that the men could reassure the Comte that Aramis would be fine. Dubois reiterated the Comte's desire for them to visit again should they have time. They chatted into the night before Aramis fell asleep on Porthos' shoulder indicating that the time to sleep was upon them.

* * *

A week or so later and Aramis was back on duty. Athos had to wonder whether D'Artagnan and Porthos had arranged for him to be on duty with Aramis as punishment for letting Aramis out of his room early. Consequently, Aramis had made it clear that he wanted to go outside every day after his excursion with Athos meaning that Porthos and D'Artagnan had been required to get Aramis out of his room and back to it alone as the others had been on duty at the palace most of the day.

Today they were on duty at the palace in the gardens and after a few hours it was clear that Aramis was struggling. He looked a little flushed and was constantly pulling at his shirt. The day was rather hot and humid and leather was never the best clothing in these circumstances. Athos sighed as he realised he would, once again, be required to carry a brother home. Next time he would lock Aramis in his room until he was healed!

Constance looked out of the window and smiled at the sight before her. The day was warm and the palace was cooler than sitting outside so the Queen and her ladies were inside embroidering.

Constance caught Anne's eye as the Queen looked up from her pattern and Constance gave a nod towards the window. Anne moved across and a smile crossed her face as she saw Aramis stood with Athos under some shade. She knew she shouldn't go to them but she couldn't help herself. Constance seemed able to read her mind.

'May I get some fresh air the gardens, Your Majesty?' Constance asked with a twinkle in her eye. The other ladies failed to hold in a sigh as they clearly did not want to go anywhere.

'Of course,' Anne smiled. 'I think I will join you but I know how warm it is outside so anyone who wishes to stay indoors may do so,' Anne was secretly hoping none of the other ladies would join them. The other ladies politely made their excuses as Constance and Anne headed outside with fans at the ready.

They tried not to make it look as though they were heading straight for the musketeers but Athos and Aramis had twigged what was happening and exchanged knowing looks.

'Aramis,' Anne smiled as she approached. 'It's good to see you well.' She did notice that he looked a little flushed and tired.

'Hmmpf,' Athos couldn't stop himself before Aramis could answer.

'You disagree, Athos?' she smiled.

'He's only here to stop him getting bored and doing something stupid,' Athos rattled off quickly with an added glare as if daring Aramis to contradict him.

'I'm fine,' Aramis stated with a hard expression.

'Except when I have to carry you home,' Athos shot back. Anne watched this interaction with interest while Constance smiled at the banter.

'But you will carry me home?' Aramis retorted with a smirk.

'As always,' Athos sighed.

'Forgive me, why is he here if he's not fit for duty?' Anne asked Athos looking concerned.

'To stop him being a menace and hurting himself,' Athos drawled.

'Hang on, I'm not that bad!' Aramis looked truly offended.

'Musket incident,' Athos raised an eyebrow as Aramis looked slightly ashamed.

'Musket incident?' Constance dared to ask while Anne stayed silent.

Athos and Aramis exchanged looks and were having their own conversation. Aramis' glare told Athos, 'Don't you dare', while Athos' smug look told Aramis 'It happened so I'll tell them'.

'Traitor,' Aramis mumbled.

'He hurt his leg a while back so we had him cleaning the muskets and pistols in the armoury,' Athos explained with a smirk. 'He decided to test one of the muskets and forgot that his right leg couldn't hold his weight properly. The force of the musket release sent him crashing to the ground, hitting his head and giving him concussion.'

Constance and Anne couldn't contain their laughs but Aramis now shot a look at Athos that said 'Fine, if that's how you want it'.

'Of course, there was the time you defied my advice of staying in bed and promptly fell down the stairs fracturing three ribs,' Aramis smirked triumphantly as Constance and Anne watched the exchange while laughing quietly.

'Indeed,' was Athos' answer.

'What have the other two done then?' Constance asked. She wanted to hear mainly about D'Artagnan but she was aware that she and the Queen would be talking about this exchange for a while to come.

A mischievous exchange passed between Athos and Aramis.

'There was the time Porthos injured his back...' Athos gave a small smirk.

'You mean the one where he was walking around like a cripple for a week?' Aramis smirked back while Athos nodded. 'That the physician told us how to sort it but was too afraid to do it himself?'

'Yes,' Athos agreed.

'What happened?' Constance asked.

'He had been injured and was weak because of it but Porthos has always prided himself on his strength,' Athos did sound amused which was a different tone for Anne to hear from him. 'He tried to lift a heavy crate before he was recovered and hurt his back. The doctor suggested that he needed to straighten the muscles and Aramis and I ended up treating him.'

'Yes, it was my right knee and you left wasn't it?' Aramis asked lightly.

'What?' Constance looked confused.

'In his back,' Athos answered.

'Then we pulled his shoulders towards us and he let out quite the roar,' Aramis couldn't hide his amusement now.

'I think Tréville thought we were murdering him,' Athos gave a small laugh that was rather unlike him.

'Sorted his back out though,' Aramis said jovially.

'What about D'Artagnan?' Constance asked as Athos and Aramis exchanged looks once more. 'What did he do?' she sighed.

'He never told you how he got those grazes on his forearms?' Athos asked.

'You mean after he was nearly blown up?' Athos nodded. 'He said they were from the explosion but they looked too recent to me.'

'He decided he could get out of bed when I'd told him to stay put,' Aramis licked his lips for a moment. 'He tripped as he tried to leave the room sending him sprawling and grazing his elbows. Thankfully he didn't hit his head.'

'Idiot,' Constance muttered.

'It seems to me he's not the only one,' Anne said looking directly at Aramis.

'Don't worry, Your Majesty. I'll make sure he's alright,' Athos gave a small bow but his eyes were fixed on Aramis who was currently looking at his boots.

'I shall leave you to your duties,' Anne said with a smile as Aramis finally looked up and gave her a brief smile himself.

Constance and Anne walked away fanning themselves as they walked back. As they entered the palace again they saw D'Artagnan and Porthos arrive and from the body language it was clear they had come to relieve Athos and Aramis and weren't going to take no for answer. Aramis' slumped form showed that he had finally conceded as did the triumphant postures of the other three.

* * *

'Come on,' Athos said as he and Aramis walked slowly away. 'You lasted longer than I thought.'

'I could've stayed longer,' Aramis mumbled after a momentary silence.

'Let's get home,' Athos could see Aramis' energy starting to wane significantly. He needed to get the marksman back now.

Aramis barely spoke as they rode back to the garrison and Athos was mindful that he would have to help Aramis back to his room. In the end, Aramis managed but Athos helped him to remove his weapons and his doublet before getting him to drink some water and leaving him to rest.

Athos returned to his own room to find that his wine supply had been used while they had been caring for the marksman so he decided to go and buy some more. He checked on Aramis and found the man fast asleep which made him chuckle quietly.

He set off for his favourite supplier but was distracted in the market. Rochefort was there.

Rochefort was in the marketplace as he had just finished meeting an informant. He was desperate for information on the musketeers known as the 'Inseparables'. He had just found out that Aramis was very much a ladies' man and had been sleeping with the Cardinal's mistress before Richelieu had her killed for betraying him. He was starting to suspect Aramis of being close to the Queen but so far he had no way to prove it. Besides his beloved Anne loved him and wouldn't stoop to the level of a musketeer.

Rochefort passed an empty building but suddenly felt hands on him as he was pushed inside.

'What do you think you are doing?!' he yelled as he turned to find the icy stare of Athos glaring at him. 'Athos,' he sneered.

'I know what you did,' Athos was seething and Rochefort knew that Athos could kill him in this mood.

'What did I do?' Rochefort backed away from Athos.

'You set Aramis up to die and you organised the attack on the Queen,' Athos' eyes were boring into Rochefort now.

'Prove it,' Rochefort replied harshly.

'I can't but I know what you did,' Athos unsheathed his dagger and was glad to see the flicker of fear that crossed Rochefort's features.

Rochefort decided to unsheathe his sword and Athos followed suit. Rochefort was no match for the best swordsman in France as Athos blocked Rochefort's attack and sliced Rochefort's right buttock with his dagger causing the blonde man to cry out in pain. Athos slammed Rochefort against the wall, sword at Rochefort's throat, so that their faces were inches from each other.

'Let that wound remind you that we know what you are,' Athos said coolly but his eyes were on fire.

'Just wait till I tell the King that you injured me?' Rochefort sneered back. 'He will believe me over you.' Rochefort wasn't actually sure that was true, yet.

'But will he believe you over me?' Athos and Rochefort turned to see Milady standing in the doorway.

'You!' Rochefort sneered as Athos finally released him.

'We all know that you were involved in recent events and I would go as far as to say you killed the Duke of Épernon,' Milady moved into the room her skirts swishing. 'Perhaps we all have our misdemeanours that we could share with the King.'

Rochefort understood that she could tell the King about all his indiscretions even if he tried to reveal her past nature and Athos' attack.

'I'm sure you were injured by a thief who wasn't caught but you will endeavour to find him,' Milady said quietly and Rochefort gritted his teeth.

'Fine,' Rochefort said. 'I will take you down musketeer and you are just a whore who will be replaced soon enough.'

Rochefort pushed past Athos and Milady and limped towards the palace.

'You were lucky I was here,' Milady said as she approached Athos. 'You owe me.'

'I owe you nothing,' Athos said through gritted teeth as he marched passed her but she held his arm to stop him.

'You owe me everything,' she growled. 'You betrayed me remember. I live with that every day,' she pointed at her choker.

'You killed my brother,' he turned to face her, his face like thunder.

'You still believe your brother could do no wrong?' she hissed. 'One day you will need my help and I will not give it.'

'Not before you need mine and I refuse to help you,' Athos pulled his arm free and walked out of the building and found the nearest tavern. Drowning himself in alcohol was the only way to block her out and right now he really needed to.

* * *

Rochefort limped back to his rooms. Bloody Athos! He would have to be more vigilant when leaving the palace. He could tell the King about Milady and Athos but she was too close to the King. Would Louis even believe him without solid proof? Athos was a trusted musketeer so accusing the man of attacking him would only provoke more questions, especially from the Queen. He needed concrete evidence to finish the musketeers and that whore but he needed to leave that for another day.

His thoughts were interrupted as Lemay appeared and saw to his wound. Damn Athos! Rochefort knew the wound was hardly life-threatening but its location meant he would be continually reminded of it until it healed. That had been Athos' plan, of course.

Lemay gave Rochefort a pain draught and as Rochefort lay down to rest, his thoughts and dreams drifted to one person. Anne. His Anne. Her golden hair and beautiful body. The body that was wasted on the King but would be put to good use if he were her husband. He always liked her in blue and gold and any other colour. She was his and only his.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you liked the ending. I know it was slightly dark but as we know Rochefort's not done yet and I thought Milady would be the only reason for Athos to be drunk enough to be kidnapped by the people of Pinon. :)  
**

 **I'd like to say a BIG 'thank you' to everyone who has stuck with this story. Everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited. You have really helped me to continue and finish this story. It's been a bit of a journey when I expected it to be relatively quick. Any pointers would be helpful to improve my writing if you feel you noticed something that you didn't like, i.e. pace, too many scenes that were somewhat irrelevant etc.**

 **Once again, thank you for reading. :)**


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